Second Chances
by Horatius
Summary: If you had lost someone more precious to you than anything else, how far would you be willing to go to get them back? How much would you be willing to give up? What if someone gave you a chance? ch6 up. R&R appreciated.
1. Chapter 1

If you had lost someone more precious to you than anything else, how far would you be willing to go to get it back? How much would you be willing to give up? What if someone gave you a chance?

Second Chances 

A story in several chapters

By: Horatius

Please R&R as things evolve. I can be reached at

Horatius314-AT-Hotmail-dot-com

Time is a funny thing. We can describe it and we can measure it. But if we make a mistake, we can't undo it. Time is like a river that forever flows in one direction. Physics tells us that we cannot send matter backwards through time. Energy can be sent, but only at a huge expense.

Ron Stoppable sat in his cubicle. He tapped at his keyboard, making pointless changes to a file. Tomorrow was going to be his 52nd birthday. In a moment of introspection, he glanced at the photos at his desk. There was a picture of him and Carol, his first ex-wife. There was a picture of him and Theresa, his second ex-wife. There weren't any others. Somewhere along his life he had screwed up. He was alone in his life. He had a dead-end job and no real friends in his life. But there was a time… there was a time when he had everything. And in a moment of weakness, he had lost everything; everything that would ever matter.

RING-

"Stoppable" Ron muttered into the phone as he answered the headset.

"Ron. Just shut up a second. Two guys just came onto the floor. They just passed me here at security. They have a picture of you and they're on their way." It was Earl, the security guard for this floor. Earl was ok, but he and Ron were never very close. Ron peeked up over the wall of his cubicle, over the vast expanse of cubicles. Picking out the two men moving amongst the cubes wasn't hard. They moved smoothly, precisely. They moved with steely determination of a kind Ron hadn't seen in a very long time. Ron watched them approach with a perverse fascination. It was like watching a shark close in for the kill, even when you knew that you were the target.

Suddenly, they were at the entry to his cubicle. They were tall, dark, and in perfect physical shape. Had they not been real, it would have almost been funny just how much they fit the mold of the quintessential federal agent.

"Mr. Ronald Dean Stoppable. Would you come with us please." The first one said. He didn't phrase it as a question. There was no humor in his voice.

"Umm, let me get my coat." Ron said as he stood up. He got the general impression that they didn't really care if he came with them under his own power or not.

Ron and the two men stepped out into the cool San Francisco fall afternoon. They ushered him into a car that was waiting for them outside the building.

"Where are we going?" Ron asked them as the car pulled away into traffic.

No answer.

"Who wants to see me?"

No answer.

"Look, people are going to be worried about me. They're going to come looking for me."

One of them turned to face Ron. "No they won't. You have no family; you have no wife, no children. No one is looking for you." He said in that bone-grindingly flat tone that spoke of just how in-control he was of the situation.

After about an hour, the car pulled up in front of a blue-glass clad building somewhere near Berkley. The building was largish, bearing no other identification or signs that would tell just what building this was.

The first man got out, and helped Ron out of the car. The second man followed Ron closely. As he was climbing out of the car, Ron caught a glimpse of a pistol securely tucked under the first man's jacket. "Not a good sign." Ron thought to himself.

The men lead Ron through checkpoints and identification scans that verified and re-verified his identity. The check points were staffed by heavily armed and armored men that would have been at home in a SWAT team. Finally, they led him into what looked like a conference room. Inside, there was a woman waiting for them. The two men took up positions on either side of the dark maple double door that was the only entrance or exit to the room.

"May I take your coat, Mr. Stoppable?" the young woman asked. She was young, maybe 25 or so. She was immaculately dressed, her dark hair offsetting her slightly Asian features perfectly. _Hey, it's San Francisco; people are people_. Ron mused.

"Thank you." Ron said as he handed her his coat.

"Something to drink while you wait? Water? Tea? Soda? Something stronger?" She asked, her soft voice sounding genuinely helpful and concerned for him.

"Just some water, please. And maybe some answers?" Ron said as he eased himself into one of the padded chairs that encircled the conference table.

She tapped the earpiece she was wearing and whispered into it. Within a few seconds, another young lady came into the room with a tray carrying a pitcher of ice water and some glasses. The new lady was helpful and attentive as she poured Ron a glass of water.

The first woman nodded slightly, "Thank you Alicia. Please inform the Major that Mr. Stoppable is waiting for him." With that, the second woman left the room, pausing only momentarily to glance at Ron with a curious gaze.

"Can you give me some answers?" Ron began after a moment or two. The Asian woman looked at Ron with a quizzical look. All she did was smile gently. Ron never heard the door open.

"She can't help you, Mr. Stoppable, but I think I can." A deep voice said. Ron turned around to face this new person. He was tall and broad-shouldered. He looked like he was made of exactly the same material as the two men that had retrieved him from work.

"My name is James MacCarran. I'm in charge of 'technical' operations here." Ron could hear the quotes around the word 'technical' and wondered exactly what connotations that word could have.

"How are you feeling, Ron?"

"Like crap. Especially when nobody will talk to me about what's going on." Ron glared at the man, with venom dripping off every word.

MacCarran smiled one of those knowing smiles that people get when they know the answers to questions before you ask them.

"Your life's pretty crappy, isn't it." MacCarran began. "Two failed marriages, you flunked out of four separate colleges. You couldn't even pass the psychological pre-screening to join the military. You're now working in a cube farm for an insurance underwriter. No wife, no kids, no pets. No internet connection at your place. Not even good cable TV."

Ron started to answer, but the words weren't there. MacCarran knew his life story.

"Your parents are both gone. Rufus, your first pet and best friend has been gone for nearly 30 years; you haven't even managed to get another pet. You don't go out, you sit in that little apartment of yours over on Church Street and watch your life go by. Even your best friend left you." MacCarran continued.

"You leave her out of this. You don't have the right to even mention her." Ron half shouted across the table. In his rage, Ron swatted the glass of ice water across the table and into the nearby wall. MacCarran smiled again; he smiled that arrogant smile again.

"Ron," MacCarran said, raising his hand in an attempt to get Ron to calm down. " What does June 8th mean to you?"

"What year?"

"Ron. For this discussion there is only one June 8th. You know it, and I know it. Now what does June 8th mean to you?"

"That was the day… the day… Kim…" Ron couldn't finish the sentence. Tears were welling in his eyes.

"That was the day that Kimberly Anne Possible died. That was the day your life changed forever. Less than two months before your wedding day; less than twenty-four months after you started dating. Think about that day much, Ron?"

_Only every day of my life for the past 33 years, you asshole._

MacCarran paused for a moment, letting his words sink into Ron's mind. MacCarran leaned back into his chair. He folded his hands in front of his chin in a thoughtful position.

Ron thought about what had happened. All the memories of those fateful days came flooding back to him. Ron remembered holding Kim in his arms for the last time; the dark red stain spreading across her mission shirt. He remembered shouting at the heavens when the trauma surgeons stepped back from her body; those machines making that awful noise that everyone knows, but never wants to hear. He remembered the funeral with everyone so calm and quiet. He remembered all the awful times that followed. He remembered that rainy night when he was so cold and alone; when all he wanted was his Kimberly again; when he knew he could be with her again in an instant; all he had to do was just push the razor a little deeper into his wrists. For an instant, the old scars at his wrists itched. Ron fought back the tears. He rubbed his eyes to clear them.

"I thought so." MacCarran said coolly.

MacCarran waited patiently, recognizing the effect of his words on Ron.

"Ron. How would you like another chance? A chance to fix what happened. A chance to undo the past 30 years of you life."

Ron looked at MacCarran, not quite sure what he was being offered.

"Yes, Ron. A chance to bring Kim back. A chance to bring the woman you love back to you. I can give you that chance. You just have to do one thing for me."

Ron looked at MacCarran with steely-eyed determination; a kind of determination that doesn't have a word to describe it in any language.

"Who do I have to kill?" Ron asked, the determination seeping into his voice.

"No one. But you may want to kill me before this is over."

End Chapter 1.


	2. Chapter 2

This is Chapter 2. It's a little drier than the first one. But it has to be done.

Disclaimer (which I forgot on the first chapter): I don't own Kim Possible or the characters therein.

Second Chances

By Horatius

"You're serious about this. I can save Kim. Kim will be alive again. We can be together again."

"Completely serious."

"When can I leave? How do I do this? When can we do this?" The sounds of excitement were spreading through Ron's voice and into his face.

"We can do this in about two hours. That is, if you don't have anything better to do with the rest of your life."

"Huh?"

"It's a one-way trip. We can get you there, but we can't get you back."

"Wait a sec…"

"We can send you back in time to shortly before the mission you two were on when Kim was killed. From there its up to you."

"Wait, I thought you can't send people and things through time. I thought I read that in a magazine somewhere."

"We can't. But we can send your consciousness back into you. In effect, we'll send your memories and everything you are into your 19-year-old self."

"Wait. Won't it get confusing with my memories from now getting in the way of my memories from then?"

"You'll only have your older memories for a while. If you pull this off, nothing that happens here will exist. You will change history. You will re-write history so that nothing that has happened to you for the past thirty years will ever have happened. You can't remember something that never happened."

"So why'd you choose me and not someone like Wade or one of her brothers?"

"In the first place, Wade recommended you for this project. Secondly, when we ran some simulations, we found that you had a better than 95 chance of being able to save Kim this time."

As they walked through the halls, and up an elevator, MacCarran began to explain the underlying physics of what was going to happen. Ron caught only pieces of the explanation. About ten minutes into the explanation, Ron gave up on the explanation.

"Mister MacCarran, I have a couple of questions. One: Can you really do this? Don't tell me you can do this and not follow through. Can you really do this? Can you really send me back?"

"Simple answer?"

"As simple as they get."

"Yes. We can get you there. What's question number two?"

"Is this going to hurt?"

"More than you can possibly imagine and in ways you can't possibly understand."

This concerned Ron. Ron didn't like pain when he was young, and he liked it even less now. Ron and MacCarran had stopped in front of a nondescript wooden door in a nondescript hallway.

"What happens if I fail and I don's save Kim? Then what?"

"If you fail, you get to live the rest of your life re-living what has already happened, with no way to stop it from happening again."

"Oh."

"That is why you can't fail."

"Ok. Last question: What's the favor you want me to do for you?"

MacCarran smiled that annoying smile again. "Trust me. You'll know it when you get there."

"My question to you, Ron, is this: Are you sure you want to do this? You can still back out. You can still go home. Once you go through this door, you can't go back."

Ron answered the question by taking hold of the doorknob and opening the door.

Inside was a room like any other. There was a receptionist sitting behind a desk. There was a potted plant in a corner and some faux artworks on the wall.

"Good afternoon, Major. Good afternoon, Mr. Stoppable."

MacCarran nodded at the woman and led Ron over to the door at the far side of the room. The door swung open of its own accord.

"Major?" Ron asked as they went inside.

"Don't ask. It's a long story."

Inside was a simple doctor's office. The doctor was a tall, elegant looking woman with an electronic clipboard and a heads-up monocle over her left eye.

"Hello Ron." She said, extending her hand, "Have a seat" gesturing toward the examination table.

"Ron, you'll be in good hands. I'll be back before she's done with you. Doc, be good to him."

With that, MacCarran went back to the door, and it opened for him.

"Ok, Ron. Strip." The doctor told him without ceremony.

"Huh?"

"I need you naked to get you ready. Do you want to be conscious for this or not?"

"If its all the same to you…" Ron said as he stepped out of the last of his clothes.

"No problem. Just inhale this." She told him as she snapped an ampoule under his nose. Ron could feel the sedative start to work on him as he sat back down on the table. The last thing he saw was the doctor smiling at him.

"Is this gonna hurt?" Ron burbled.

"You won't feel a thing. Trust me."

A wall of blackness lept up and hit Ron in the face. For the first time in three decades, there were no nightmares. There was no guilt clawing at the back of his brain. There was nothing but deep, restful, blissful blackness. The nap was only a few minutes as far as he could tell, but they were a wonderful few minutes. Ron awoke to the feeling of the examination table beneath him and the sound of MacCarran and the doctor talking. As he bobbed back to consciousness, a machine beeped, notifying his overseers.

"Morning Ron. Ready?" The major smiled as he handed Ron a towel and a robe.

"Where are we going?"

"We? We're going downstairs. You? You're going where you belong."

MacCarran lead Ron downstairs into a large industrial looking room the size of an aircraft hangar. Computers and other massive pieces of equipment filled the room. At the center of the room was a machine that resembled nothing so much as a giant Magnetic Resonance Image scanner. It was a giant semi-circle of machinery with a simple metal bed-like table in the center of it.

"Here we are. Nervous?"

Ron gulped.

"Terrified." Ron whispered.

"Good. That's healthy. If you weren't scared, I'd be worried." MacCarran smiled. "It'll all be over soon."

MacCarran took Ron down a set of stairs and onto the dais with the machine. There were about a dozen technicians working nearby. As Ron was laid down onto the machine, the technicians began to strap him onto the table that would take him into the machine.

"Major MacCarran?"

"Yes?"

"Have you done this before?"

"Personally? Yes. I've done this twice."

"What does time travel feel like?"

The machine swallowed Ron.

"It hurts. A lot."

"How much, a lot? Like a broken leg? Like getting punched?"

One of the technicians put a soft rubber restraint into Ron's mouth.

"How much does it hurt...That's a tough one." MacCarran thought for a moment. "Imagine being frozen."

Ron tried to say something but the restraint prevented speech. _That doesn't sound like it hurts too much_.

"Then, while you're frozen, you're set on fire."

_Oh my._

"Finally, as you're frozen and burning, imagine having every cell in your body vaporized one at a time."

Ron went pale. _This is really going to hurt_.

"And finally, that feeling of being disassembled one particle at a time is immediately preceded by the feeling of being reassembled, one particle at a time."

If Ron could have fainted, he would have.

"Ron. C'mon Ron, stay with me for a few more seconds. You have to remember June 8th. The mission you left on was on June 8th. I don't care how you do it, but you have to keep Kim from going on that mission. I don't care if you have to break her legs, drug her, tie her up, or lock her in a closet and sit on her for twenty-four hours. Do what you have to do. Got me?"

Ron nodded.

"By the way, to make matters worse, when you get there, you're going to see people that you know are gone. The emotional trauma from that alone can make you do some pretty weird things. The only advice I can offer is that you remember to breathe and to think about things before you say them."

Ron nodded a second time.

"One last thing: Be yourself."

MacCarran smiled and gave Ron a 'thumbs up'. He patted the machine as he walked away. Ron could see MacCarran step into a glass-partitioned room. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, a deep humming started in the machine. Ron could feel a slight tickle on his skin. A slight tickle like he was being walked on by millions of ants. Then, right on cue, the pain began. It was like the universe exploded. If anything, MacCarran's description of the pain wasn't enough to prepare him for what he felt. Seconds ticked by and the pain only increased. Ron tried screaming, but Ron suddenly discovered he had no mouth. The blackness inside was his only companion.

Suddenly, the pain stopped. For a moment, Ron could see. He saw people. People dressed in black; people crying. Wait. He remembered this. This was Kim's funeral. He hadn't made it far enough back. He tried to scream. He tried to cure MacCarran's name. But then as suddenly as the vision began, it was gone. The raw, unadulterated pain returned with a vengeance.

Suddenly, the pain stopped. Somewhere in his brain, Ron tried to escape the pain as best he could. He rolled to his right and was immediately greeted by a three-foot fall onto the floor. He could feel the floor. It was solid. Carpeted, but solid; definitely not a dream or a hallucination. Somewhere near his head was a rumpled pair of jeans. Based solely on their smell, he could tell that they weren't a hallucination either.

"Ron? Ron? Are you alright?" A voice came from the darkness.

That voice. He knew that voice. He would know that voice forever. It was a voice that had haunted every moment of his being for decades.

It was Kim. And she was very much alive.


	3. Chapter 3

Second Chances

By Horatius

Standard Disclaimers apply.

Comments or criticisms Email to Horatius314-at-hotmail-dot-com

Ron jumped up from the floor. His eyes quickly adjusting to the darkness, he looked around the room trying to get his bearings. He was in a bedroom. Standing next to a bed. His muscles still hurt but the pain was fading like a bad dream. _I know this apartment. This is where we lived when we were in college. When we lived just off campus; when Kim would get up early every morning and run. When we were together. When we…_

"Ron? You ok?" Kim asked him.

Ron looked around the room, wanting to see the love of his life again after all these years. Ron turned. There she was. Very much alive and very much naked.

"Hello? Earth to Ron. Are… you… all…right?" she asked him a hint of concern in her voice.

Ron paused another second or two, still in shock at the view before him. Then, he smiled that crooked smile he was so famous for. The same one she had fallen in love with.

"I'm Ok, K.P. Just fell out of bed. No big deal."

"That's good to hear," she said as she rolled back to her side of the bed. "Now hurry up and get back in bed. I'm getting lonely in here without you."

Ron smiled. And after a millisecond of thought did the only thing he could think of. He got back into bed. As he lay there in the darkness, settling into his warm, soft bed, a softer, warmer form slid up against him. A gentle arm snaked its way across his chest and its attached hand curled gently at the spot where his neck and shoulder met. He could feel her head snuggling in at his opposite shoulder. He could feel her body curling against his. It fit against him perfectly, just as it had so many times, so long ago. No, not long ago. Now. This was happening now. He was here, now. He wasn't 52 years old remembering his life, he was 19 again and he was living it all over again.

As he lay there in the darkness, he could feel the two incarnations of his mind hashing out all the minor details. His younger mind was interrogating the foreign ideas of his older mind. After a few minutes, Ron gave up listening to them and just let sleep overtake him. His older-self tried to protest, tried to remind Ron of the pain and suffering that had come before. His younger self prevailed this time by reminding him that all those things Ron was worrying about hadn't happened yet. This led his older self to remind his total self that is he was here, and those things would never come to pass. Never. No matter what he had to do, those things would never happen.

In the back of his mind, his two selves wrestled. Older and younger Rons battled in the back of his mind. A consensus of how the two pieces of his mind would work together was reached when the older version of Ron put the younger version into an inverted atomic pile-driver. And with that, the two halves of Ron were unified; at least as well as they could be.

Somewhere in the night, somewhere near sunrise, Kim moved. Ron was only briefly aware of it when he opened one eye and looked at her, sitting up in bed. After a moment, she curled up beside him and held him tight.

"You ok, KP?

"I'm always ok when I'm with you. I love you, Ron."

"I love you too. Now go back to sleep." Ron mumbled as he slept again.

BUZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

The alarm clock next to the bed went off. Ron opened an eye and slapped at the nightstand where the clock should be. He eventually found the snooze button and the buzzing stopped. When he turned back to her, her eyes were open and she was looking up into his eyes.

"Good morning" Kim stifled a yawn as Ron looked back and snuggled back into her.

"Good Morning, beautiful. How did you sleep?" Ron asked.

"Except for the time I had to drag you back into bed, pretty well. You?"

"I slept great. But then, any morning I can wake up next to the most beautiful woman in the world is a great morning."

"Flattery will get you everywhere." Kim whispered to Ron as she pulled him close and kissed him. Ron slid his arm down under the blankets and around her waist. The heat of their kiss intensified until there was no question as to where the morning was heading.

For the first time in 33 years, Ron made love to the only woman in his life that mattered. His youthful enthusiasm and endurance coupled with the skill and tenderness that only time can provide. Throughout the early morning hours, their passion echoed through the walls and spread through the halls of their apartment. When the passion and fury of their first few efforts had passed, they began to enjoy each other once again. And when they had both been fully saited, they rested; their bodies entwined, no longer acting or feeling as two separate people, but rather as one. The way it should be. The way they both knew it should be.

Ron held Kim close against his chest. Their bodies were covered in a faint sheen of sweat following their exertions. As their heartbeats calmed and began to match, Kim lifted her head from Ron's chest and looked into his eyes. "Have I told you how much I love you?"

"Not in the last ten minutes."

"I love you, Ron."

"I love you too, Miss Possible."

Kim slowly disentangled herself from Ron, much to his chagrin. Kim scanned around the room looking for some clean clothes. Ron started to do likewise, trying to remember which drawers in the dresser belonged to him. On his first try, he managed to find Kim's underwear drawer.

"Trust me, that one isn't yours. You might look cute in my panties, but I definitely don't think they're very comfortable for you."

"Ummm…"

Kim smiled at him. She had that alluring, innocent smile that made men melt. When Ron started to protest, she went immediately to the puppy-dog pout that cold reduce anyone to helplessness. A few tries later he found the right drawer and was soon dressed.

Ron meandered out into the small kitchen and dining area that the apartment provided them. Leftovers were being nuked in the microwave and the smell of enchiladas filled the area. Kim was already there. Late spring always brought out the best in young ladies, and Kim was no exception. It was still early in the day, but Kim was already prepared for the warm weather. As she reached up to open the microwave, Ron could see her bare midriff between the short t-shirt she wore tied just below her breasts and a skirt that if it were any shorter it would have been considered scandalous.

Y'know, I was thinking about catching a matinee and some lunch, maybe…"

"Maybe forgetting something? Something important? Something like your Trig final at 11 o'clock this morning?"

"My wha?"

"Your trig final. The one that starts in," she checked her watch. "Just about two hours."

Oh shit. Trig. This was the last math class I ever took. I'm gonna screw this one up. This is not good

Promptly at 11:00, Ron was sitting in a chair, surrounded by a roomful of people. Some of them grumbling and complaining, some of them excited about the end of the semester, some frantically studying their notes, trying desperately to learn some obscure fact that would help them pass this last final of the semester. The professor walked into the room and a hush fell across the crowd. The professor distributed the exam. Each student looked at the exam as it arrived. Never before had so much dread been seen on the faces of so few people.

Ron's exam arrived on his desk. Question 1: Name. Stoppable, Ron. No problem. Question 2: Date:--- Ron glanced at his watch. May 31. Oh, shit. June 8th. He had nine days and some hours to save the woman he loved and his own future.


	4. Chapter 4

Second Chances

Chapter 4.

Standard Disclaimers apply.

This is where things start getting a little odd.

May 31. Somewhere around 12:30 p.m.

Ron exited the math building, exchanging its cool semi-darkened corridors for the bright sun-lit expanses of campus. Cool air-conditioning was exchanged for warm, damp air that was filled with the smells of life. Lush green lawns sprawled around the concrete and glass buildings that made up the university. Such was his life. Ron glanced down at his watch. In the past ninety minutes, his watch had become the single most important item in his life. Not all of the watch, just the date. The countdown had begun.

Ron walked across the main quad of the campus, past the fountain and past the library, bound for the Student Union building. Before he reached the building, he encountered 'The Line'. Textbook buyback.

"Oh, crap. This is going to take forever. I'm on a schedule here," Ron grumbled. As he glanced around, looking up and down the line, time slowed down. And so it went. It took less than an hour, but in the end, as with all books, money is money.

In that less-than-an-hour, Ron began to plan exactly how to keep Kim from going on a mission that wouldn't even exist for more than a week. MacCarran had given him a pretty wide leeway as to exactly how he could go about protecting Kim from her fate. _Break her legs, drug her, tie her up, stuff her in a closet and sit on her for a day. I don't care, MacCarran had said._ Ron smiled at the rather interesting courses of action that this could produce. Tying Kim up and stuffing her in a closet for a day could be interesting, but Kim was way too resourceful to let that happen. If Ron tried, she'd be out of the closet in under five minutes, and be well into beating him to a bloody pulp before he could even begin to explain. As for drugging her… the same repercussions sprang into his head. Breaking her legs so she can't go on a mission? It had possibilities, but that would probably end their relationship. Kim would be alive, but she would never speak to him again. _What to do?_ Ron pondered as he sat down on the concrete edge of the fountain. He needed help on this. Even his older self, with all its wisdom and accumulated knowledge was of no help here. _Somewhere, out there, there was a solution to this problem. All I have to do is find it. How tough can this be? All I have to do is cheat history. How tough can that be?_

Ron was lost in thought, and was completely startled when his cell phone went off. He glanced down at the screen. Kim was calling.

"Hey Kim, what's up?"

"Nothing, just calling to see where you were. Just wanted to remind you that we need to get going eventually if we want to make it home."

"Huh? Home?" _Wait, that's right. We drive home, back to Middleton every break._

"Ron? You okay? I thought you were coming straight home after your final. Where are you?"

"I'm still on campus. I'm over…"

"Over by the fountain. I can hear it behind you. Hmmmm."

"Hmmmm what?" That 'Hmmmm' of hers had an interesting tone to it. One he couldn't quite place.

"Ron, stand up a sec."

Ron was puzzled. "Ok. I'm standing."

"Turn around. Tell me what you see."

Ron turned.

"I see the library. I see the fountain. I see… trees. I see…"

"Ron. Be quiet a second. I left you a present at the librarian's desk on the main floor. I'll see you when you get home. Love you."

"Love you, too." Ron said as he ended the call. A present at the librarian's desk? Odd. But then this is Kim we're talking about.

Kim has her moments. She could go from being indestructible-miss-teen-adventure-heroine to 'little kimmie-cub' in an instant. She could go from being the most anal-retentive person on the planet to lounging around the apartment in sweats, eating Dorito crumbs out of the bag while watching bad soap operas. And every once in a while she could go from being miss prude to being a nymphomaniac-vixen from beyond hell. She could go from sweet and demure to the mega-bitch of the universe. Ron chuckled at this thought as he walked into the library.

Ron walked up to the librarian's station on the main floor. Its stark rose granite panels set it off from the rest of the room. A solid, austere island surrounded by soft chairs, carpeted floors and bizarre modern artwork.

"Hey, Ron." The student behind the counter said to him. Ron knew him, but couldn't remember the boy's name.

"Hey." Ron paused a second. "Did someone leave anything for me down here?"

"Someone? You mean 'Did Kim leave you anything?'" the aide smiled.

"I suppose." Ron was uncomfortable now. Not only did this guy know him, but he knew Kim as well. The aide's name was still escaping him.

The aide reached under the desk and pulled out a thickly padded envelope. Inside were a key card and a post-it note with the number '5' written on it.

"Thanks man." Ron said as he headed toward the elevator.

There was one thing that was troubling Ron as he stepped into the elevator. He remembered this day last time it happened. He didn't remember a gift at the librarian's desk. And he certainly didn't remember fighting with the elevator.

"Stupid machine."

"Library level five is currently closed. Please select a different level." The annoyingly sweet artificial voice said.

"How the hell am I supposed to get to the fifth floor if I don't have a… oh, never mind."

Ron chided himself as he put the key card into the small slot. Immediately, the doors closed. A wave of paranoia flashed across his mind in the minute it took to ride the elevator.

_If I can't remember what's happening, maybe I've already changed history. No, I can still remember everything else. This is different. This is something else_.

The elevator door opened onto the fifth floor of the library. The only light on the floor came from the large windows. Boxes were stacked in orderly rows. Disassembled shelving units stood in vast piles. Unused filing cabinets formed islands in the darkness.

Ron stepped out into the darkness.

"Kim?"

No answer.

"Kim? You here? Helloooooooooo. Kiiiiiiiiim?" Ron shouted into the darkness.

No answer. A moment passed.

"Hello Ron." Kim's voice was soft and alluring. It came from ahead of him somewhere in the darkness. There was a tone in her voice Ron didn't recognize.

"Hey KP, what's up? Where are you?"

"I'm here. I've missed you so much."

Ron was confused. He began walking into the darkness, following her voice into the darkness. _Missed me? She just saw me a few hours ago_.

The confusion lasted only a second. Ron was suddenly engulfed in a pair of arms. He could feel Kim against him. She held him close. Kim kissed his cheek and held him tightly against his body. Kim rocked gently back and forth in the darkness. Ron could feel what felt like tears against his cheek as Kim held him. In her soft voice, Ron could hear her saying something, but couldn't make it out. It almost sounded like she was saying the word 'ever' over and over again.

"You ok, KP?"

Kim breathed in and took a step back from Ron. For the first time since she grabbed him, Ron could see her. The newness of being back with the woman he loved was still a shock to Ron, but this was almost heart-attack level of shock. Kim was standing there in front of him his hands in hers. Her blouse was open, revealing her flawless skin and perfect cleavage. She looked a little disheveled. Her eyes were turning a little puffy. But with this vulnerable look in her eyes, it made her look even sexier than she ever had.

The space between them suddenly felt awkward. Kim looked into his eyes, for a moment, Ron could see the conflict in her eyes. _Where did that come from? This is the most confident person I've ever met, and she looks worried. No, not worried, terrified. _ In an instant, Kim closed the gap into Ron's arms. Ron responded to the impact with an 'oomph' as she tackled him to the ground. In a flurry of hands and lips and clothing and bodies the early morning's activities were repeated with a fury unmatched in the annals of normality.

As Ron lay on the floor, Kim at his side both of them basking in the afterglow, both of them dozed lightly, he could almost hear her say something as she drifted out of consciousness. It was unintelligible, but it was probably something important. He'd have to remember to ask later.

4:45 AM, June 1st. Somewhere on Interstate 80

They had been driving for more than twelve hours. There was another fifteen hours to go before they reached Middleton. Kim was asleep in the passenger seat, a pillow behind her head. Rufus was asleep in the back seat, curled up on the luggage. The radio was playing something mindless trying desperately to keep Ron awake. There were audio books still to be played, but Ron wasn't in the mood to listen. Kim had been acting a little odd in the hours between the incident at the library and when they left home for the long drive to Middleton. Kim, the most organized person in the world, had actually made him turn around and go back to the apartment because she forgot something. If it were anyone else in the world, it would have been nothing. But this was Kim. Ron had concocted a few ideas to keep her out of trouble, but none of them were worth implementing. Some had promise. Some were outlandish. Some had even given rise to a few fantasies that Ron thought about to pass the time as mile after mile of road passed under them.

Somewhere around sunrise, Kim began to stir. Which was good, because Ron was in desperate need of sleep.

"Morning" Kim said as she blinked the sleep out of her eyes.

"Morning. Sleep well?"

"If you could call it sleep. How are you doing?"

"Well, lets just say that you'll be doing the driving pretty shortly."

After about twenty miles, they passed a sign for a truck stop that advertised 'Food'. Kim noted it.

"We could get a bite to eat and change drivers if you like."

Ron yawned.

"Sounds good to me." He said as he continued to stare out onto the road.

Silence.

More silence. Not the normal contented silence that was usually there, but there was a mild tension in the air. It was something foreign to the situation.

"Everything all right?" Ron asked, a little concerned.

Kim reached over and placed her hand on his thigh. She gave it a gentle squeeze. She smiled a weird little smile.

"Everything's perfect. Every moment I get to spend with you is perfect." She said to him as she sat more upright in the front seat. It sounded a little sappy when she said it, but there was a hint of desperation in her voice.

Somewhere behind Ron's head there was a sound of motion. Rufus was now awake. With every step the naked mole rat took, he picked himself across the irregular surfaces and into the front seat. Ever since the older Ron had arrived in his younger body, Rufus had been wary. Rufus was probably a little psychic, Ron mused. Or maybe he could just detect the subtle changes in his owner. Whatever the cause Rufus was very quiet throughout the trip. That was, until Ron pulled off the interstate and into the parking lot of the Truck stop. Their Jeep Cherokee seemed like a child's toy as it zipped among the large trucks. Big burly men in desperate need of a shower and a decent bed roamed between the mobile mountains. As they pulled in to a parking place near the resturaunt, they got out of the Jeep and stretched. Kim stretched her tired muscles with cat-like grace. Ron stretched his with… well, Ron-like grace.

"Owww. I think I just hurt myself stretching." Ron complained as he heard his back pop and crack.

Kim looked at him in disbelief.

"Only you could hurt yourself stretching."

"Yeah. Stretching" Rufus added to the discussion.

Breakfast was warm and filling. It even had flavor. It also had grease. Rufus was happy with what passed as a Breakfast Burrito. Never was this rodent more happy than when he had cheese and spices. Kim and Ron talked over breakfast. It was small talk. The kind of conversation tired people have when fatigue set in long, long ago.

"Anything special you want to do when we get home?" Ron asked as the waitress filled his cup of coffee.

"Actually, I've been kind of thinking about taking a side trip after we've been there a little while." Kim said as she mopped up a wayward bit of sausage gravy with her toast.

"Every time we go back to Middelton, we don't go too far from our parent's house and the old neighborhood. I was thinking maybe we could go somewhere else this time around."

This time around? That's an odd phrase. I don't think I remember Kim ever using that phrase.

"KP, I think that's a great idea. Where would you like to go, when would you like to go and how many times would you like to go there?"

Kim looked at him, her mouth full of toast. She swallowed.

"Ummm, I was thinking about maybe heading south and maybe hitting Disney Land."

Ron thought a second.

"Hmmmmm. Spending time at Disney World with the woman I love. Tough call. Pick a time and we're there."

"Disney Land. And I was thinking about next Monday or so."

"Disney WORLD, and I think next Monday would be fine." _To get there Monday, we'd have to leave Sunday. That would cover the 8th perfectly. _

"Disney LAND, and I think we could have some fun. You know what they say, 'Getting there is half the fun'." Kim smiled seductively at him.

The whole Disney Land/World argument was an old argument. It wasn't even an argument. It was just a verbal sparring that they both enjoyed. It was fun and it was comfortable. They could have been debating whether the sun was too bright or not bright enough. It really didn't matter. This was just one of the ways they connected to each other. There were others, of course. The biggest of which involved a Kimmunicator, a blue skinned-lunatic and a green-garbed ultra-violent psychopath. And if history was any indicator, Kim and Ron would be bonding shortly.

Author's notes

I hope everyone is enjoying the story so far. I know, some parts of the story are a little domestic. Hopefully, I've avoided getting too cheesy or too fluffy. Let me know what you people think.

Em5: Don't worry; I have more Rufus scheduled for the next few chapters.

Campy and Brimstone: I hope you enjoy this.

If anyone else wants to R&R, I can always use some constructive criticisms.

Thanks.

Horatius


	5. Chapter 5

Second Chances

Chapter 5

Standard Disclaimers apply. Disney owns everything except that which I keep in my head.

Quick Note: Since everyone's figured out the story already, maybe I should move on to another story.

June 4th, Middleton.

The past few days had elapsed with frightening speed and even more frightening emotional trauma for Ron. Kim and Ron had arrived in Middleton in time for a late dinner at Mister and Missus Doctor Possible's home. There was the traditional levels of hugging as would be expected when you come home from a long time away. Kim seemed especially adhered to her parents. She actually seemed happy to see the tweebs, AKA her brothers for the first time in a long time. For a while, she just wandered around the house… touching things. Ron even went so far as to comment on this to her, but her responses were non-committal at best.

The true emotional trauma came a day later for Ron. Shortly after breakfast, the two of them had driven over to Ron's parent's house. _Remember to breathe,_ MacCarran had told him. _Be yourself and you'll get through this._ As they walked up the sidewalk to the front door, Ron paused to take a deep breath. He extended his hand to turn the knob, and the door swung open, revealing Ron's mom. A woman he hadn't seen in over fifteen years. A woman, his older self told him, who had died from cancer fifteen years ago. Ron Stoppable, a man with a 52-year-old brain and memories did the only thing he could think of: he folded himself into his mother's arms and cried.

His older self remembered what happened: The chemotherapies, the surgeries and finally the dreadful end, when this beautiful vibrant woman had simply withered away. When it happened the first time, Ron had looked for someone to blame for her death. He had tried blaming the doctors and the hospitals, but in the end, the only person there was to blame was his mother. Her version of a good diet consisted of typical midwestern faire: Meat, gravy, homemade bread, minimal vegetables, more meat, sugar, and enough grease to lube a car. But none of this made any difference. Somewhere in his mom's body was a chromosome just waiting to turn itself on and run amok in her immune system. But that day was a decade in the future. There was absolutely nothing he, or his older self could do.

"Whatcha doing, Ron?" Kim asked as Ron hung up the phone.

"Just making a phone call or two. Taking a few things into my own hands."

"Like what?" Kim asked suspiciously.

"Nuthin'." Ron smiled impishly as he tore a slip of paper off the notepad by the phone and walked toward the kitchen.

Ron put a piece of paper down in front of his mother. Kim stood in the door of the kitchen, leaning against the oven.

"What's this, Ronnie?" his mom asked looking at the paper covered with names and dates and phone numbers.

"That's your doctor's appointments."

Ron's mom looked aghast at the paper and its implications.

"I don't need a doctor. And I certainly don't need a…a…"

"Mom, the word is mammogram. And you need one. You've never had any kind of cancer checkup, and I get worried about you sometimes. I want you to promise me that you'll go. I'll do whatever you ask of me, just promise me that you'll go." Ron thought fast. "Kim and I will even have a…" he gulped down hard trying to make himself say the next few words. "…a Jewish Wedding."

Kim looked shocked. Like something had just taken a bite out of her forearm. But when Ron looked at her, she understood just how important his mother's health was and what he wanted to do to protect her. Ron's mom, on the other hand, was still in shock. Ron's dad chuckled. Ron turned to look at his father.

"Here, dad. This is for you." Ron set another piece of paper down in front of his father.

"And this would be…?"

"Your cardiologist appointment next week. Have fun. Same deal I made with mom. If you both go to these and stay healthy, you can call Rabbi Katz and start making arrangements." His parents could do nothing but stare at their son and his wife-to-be as she put her hand on his shoulder, presenting a unified front to the elder Stoppables. Out of nowhere, Ron felt a twinge in the back of his head. Suddenly, he couldn't remember why he just did all this for his parents. He remembered making the calls not more than 5 minutes ago, his older self remembered their funerals, but they were becoming hazy, like trying to remember a dream. And then, without warning, even that memory was gone. Ron could feel relief at losing a terrible memory, but he couldn't remember the memory or even what it was about. _Thank you_ Ron whispered to no one in the room. _Wherever you are, thank you._

_At least these memories are solid. I remember being right here, right now. I even remember what we had for breakfast tomorrow. Had? Are having? Will have? Whatever_. Ron thought as he watched the patterns of moonlight play against the drapes and the floor. Kim was on her side, sleeping peacefully in the cool breezes and night air. The oversized t-shirt she was sleeping in outlined the curves and lines of her body very nicely. Ron raised his wrist to glance at his watch, staring balefully at its luminescent dial. 11:42 PM. In a few minutes, it would be the fourth of June. That gave him just about one hundred and ten hours. Time was ticking away faster and faster. If it was the fourth of June, that also meant there was a mission coming up in about ten hours. Nothing big, but still important, nonetheless. Some kind of cyber-chip-thingie.

"It's a cybernetic interface communication interface and control chip." Wade explained.

"Let me guess. Drakken's got it." Kim smiled at wade.

"How'd you guess?"

"Intuition."

"I've already got a ride on its way. It should be there in a few."

"Thanks, Wade. You rock." Kim told him as she switched off the Kimmunicator.

"C'mon, Ron we gotta get going." Kim shouted as she finished tying her shoes and grabbed her backpack for the mission at hand. Ron stepped out of the bathroom, ready to go. So-to-speak. Ron had picked up a different backpack than his usual one. This one was longer and thinner. He had also added a military surplus pistol belt covered in pouches that contained god-knows-what. _At least he's prepared for the worst_, Kim thought as she smiled.

Ron patted Rufus on the head and left him on the bed.

"Not this time, little buddy. I don't want you getting squashed."

"Awww, phooey." Rufus moped.

"Here, Kim's folks have really good cable. They've even got the Wrestling Channel, see?" Ron said as he turned on the TV and handed the remote to Rufus.

"Oooooh. Painfist!" Rufus perked up and started cheering when his wrestling hero appeared on the screen.

"You heard about Drakken and Shego?" Kim asked as the boarded the plane a few minutes later.

"I heard enough." Ron said, fighting with the seatbelt.

Kim shook her head, smiling happily and forcibly 'helped' Ron into his seat.

"So where are we headed?" Kim asked the pilot.

"San Diego" the pilot and Ron answered in unison.

Kim raised an eyebrow.

"Ron. Do you know something about this mission that you're not telling me?"

"Umm, no. I just happened to er…umm… see the flight plan as I was getting into the plane."

"Uh huh." Kim nodded suspiciously.

Dead silence for the next few minutes.

Ron got up to go to the bathroom, in an attempt to do anything to break the tension that had emerged from his failed attempt at a lie. He washed his hands and left the cramped bathroom on the plane. That was his last mistake. As he stepped out from the bathroom, he was grabbed and thrown bodily onto the floor. As he began to protest he was smashed into several more walls before he returned to the floor. When the beating paused, Kim was straddling his chest, his arms pinned to the floor by her knees, and her left hand gripping his throat.

"Who the hell are you and what have you done with Ron?" she hissed at him.

"KP! Its me." Ron pleaded with her.

"BULLSHIT!" She screamed as she slapped him. "You've been acting funny for days. Now I can prove it. You know far too much to be Ron. You knew we were heading for San Diego before the pilot did and before I did. Who the hell are you working for, and what kind of trap are you leading us into?"

"Kim. It's me. Ron. I can even prove it."

"Fine. You get one chance. Then I chuck you out the door at thirty thousand feet. Not even Eric the Simbot could handle that."

Ron gulped. And looked at her a little concerned. _Since when did she start sounding like Shego?_ Ron looked up at her trying to think of some way he could prove his identity.

Something that only he would know. Something that only his younger self would know. His eyes looked down at her waist. _Something about us in bed?_ No, too weird. He looked back up at her face. There, hanging around her neck, was a ring. The engagement ring he had given her. She took it off her finger and put it on the chain before every mission.

"The ring. The engagement ring I gave you. It's made of silver and titanium. Wade made the GPS circuit inside it." Ron spat out as fast as he could to appease the redhead who was holding his life in her hand.

"And?" she said, starting to believe him.

"And the inscription inside. It's the first thing you said to me when we were kids. It says

'You're weird, but I like you.'"

She looked at him. Ron could feel her grip loosen at his throat. She smiled, leaned down and kissed him.

"Sorry about that. I guess I'm getting paranoid." Kim said as she helped Ron to his feet.

"Its ok, KP. I guess we're kinda in a weird place these past few days." Ron smiled as he brushed himself off. They sat back down.

"Weird doesn't begin to explain where we are these days." Kim told him as they relaxed in the deeply padded seats the Learjet used.

"Tell me about it." Ron mused.

Kim looked at him, her brow furrowing.

"Excuse me? Something you want to tell me?"

"Not really. But…"

"We're coming in for a landing", the pilot interrupted.

"Don't think you're getting off this easily Ron Stoppable. We will finish this discussion after the mission." Kim shook her finger at Ron, emphasizing her serious nature.

"Yes, dear." Ron said as the plane landed.

Thirty-five minutes later, Kim and Ron were standing in the office of Doctor Westlake, the scientist formerly in possession of the interface chip.

"So what did this interface chip do?" Kim asked, slipping into her investigation mode.

"Well, it was originally developed as part of a virtual reality interface, but that didn't work out too well. The user quickly lost the ability to distinguish between the virtual world and reality." The doctor began. "Then we figured out that we could turn it around and use it to scan parts of the human brain and store that data."

"So what you're saying is that you could scan someone's brain and store them in a computer?" Kim asked.

"Or even send the contents of their brain from one computer to another?" Ron interjected from across the room.

"I suppose we could do that. But it would take a huge computer to do that." Westlake replied. "I suppose we could even take one person's memories and put them into another person's brain."

Is this what he was talking about? Is this what the favor was? Naah. But it does sound like this chip is the prototype for how I got here.

"Don't worry doc, we'll get your equipment back. You can count on it."

As they left the labs, Ron turned to look at the building they had just left. It was a fairly typical building for the area. It was large, clad in blue-tinted glass and copper fittings. It looked vaguely familiar.

"Hey doc, I don't suppose you've got an office in Berkley, do you?"

"Berkley? No. Nothing in Berkley."

Ron frowned.

"But we do have a research lab up in Cupertino, about twenty minutes from Berkley. Why do you ask?"

"Just asking."

Kim shot him a look.

And with that, they were off.

About three hours later, Kim and Ron were crouching on a skylight, looking down into a small makeshift laboratory. They could see Drakken and Shego below them. Between them was a small shockproof box. It was open and inside, connected to a myriad of cables and other electronic devices was a hand-sized piece of hardware; presumably the missing cybernetic interface.

"Standard game plan? You distract Drakken and get the gizmo, I'll take care of Shego." Kim said, working on the latch to the skylight.

"Sounds good to me, partner. I'd rather be taking care of you, though." Ron quipped as he checked the equipment he was carrying.

Kim smiled and gave him a quick peck on the cheek.

"Remember. Keep your mind on business. Nothing heroic, nothing stupid. We're both going home tonight."

"Check." Ron flashed her the 'ok' sign. He began to lower himself down to the main floor. Kim was about five feet behind him as he hit the ground.

Ron began to move quietly through the narrow space between the crates and the wall. Quietly, quietly quietly Ron kept saying to himself. Just a few more meters to go. A few more. A few more. Then he had reached the end of the row of boxes. Unfortunately there was still about eight or ten feet to cover before he could get to the table where the interface was. But, he was only a few feet from where Drakken was. And if he took Drakken out of the picture, his life would be that much easier. Ron reached around and quietly opened the main pouch in his pack. From inside the black nylon pouch he could feel the cool metal slide easily into his hand. It fit comfortably against the leather of his gloves. Ron knew exactly what he had to do with this. He pulled it completely from the pack and began to sneak toward the blue-skinned mad scientist. Drakken wasn't going to forget this encounter for a long time.

Across the room, Shego had been leafing through the latest issue of Cosmo. She was deeply into the article entitled 'Ten Reasons Not to Steal your Best Friend's Boyfriend (And Ten Reasons to Do it Anyway)' when she glanced up to see a tuft of blonde hair quietly moving towards Dr. Drakken. But before she could shout a warning, she was caught squarely in the back by a size 9 boot, sending her crashing into the table, and the table crashing into the ground.

"What's the matter, Shego? Getting slow in your old age?" Kim quipped as she took a fighting stance.

Shego picked herself up from the ground, her telltale snarl gracing her lips.

"You're gonna regret that, princess!" Shego barked as she leapt toward Kim. What followed was a flurry of kicks, punches, strikes and flips. Each one met with the same result. Kick-block-punch-block-nerve strike-block-counterstrike-block.

"This is getting old, Shego. Wanna try something different?" Kim smiled as her blocks continued.

"Old? Try this one on for size, Kimmie." Shego shouted as the glowing green nimbus surrounded her fists. Shego paused a second to steady herself and then began a whole new set of attacks. Each attack grew in ferocity. Each one came faster and faster. Kim could see the glow around Shego's fists growing in intensity until it began to cast shadows on the walls. The shifting shadows outlining the two combatants as they struggled against each other. Then suddenly, Kim caught one of Shego's fists. Not 'caught' as in 'was hit by', but caught as in grabbed Shego's wrist, just behind the crackling green glow, and then used the new leverage point to throw Shego across the room. Shego landed with a crunch immediately on top of one of her fists. The green glow burned into her uniform, melting a large hole and burning the flesh underneath. Shego lay on the floor, dazed and confused. Kim strode over to her, triumphantly.

"Ready for another round, Shego? Or have you had enough?" Kim gloated over her victim.

"Looks like the princess has some new moves." Shego chuckled as she pulled herself up to a standing position. "I'm ready if you…" She began, but never finished. She looked past Kim to the events on the other side of the room. What she saw disturbed her, and not in a good way.

"Ummm I think your partner has lost it Kimmie. Take a look."

"I'm not falling for that one…" Kim started, until she heard the sounds of screams and whimpering from across the room. And they weren't Ron's.

Ron had quietly approached the blue form of Drakken. Quietly, with every bit of strength he could muster, Ron swung the aluminum baseball bat at the back of Dr Drakken's right knee. Drakken went down like a rag-doll, his leg crumpling beneath his weight.

"Mornin' Dr. D." Ron glared down at Drakken's cringing form with an evil smile on his face. "Its payback time."

A look of horror spread across Drakken's face as he pulled his knee up in a vain attempt to protect it from further attacks.

"Karma's a bitch, ain't it." Ron said calmly as he swung the bat again. This time there was a solid 'thud' as it impacted Drakken's thigh. Drakken screamed. It was a very satisfying scream. Ron smiled again. Drakken tried his best to scramble away, but the pain was getting the best of him.

"Stop! Please, stop" Drakken was pleading for the beating to end, but Ron was past the point of hearing him. Ron just smiled and spoke with deliberate tones.

"What was it you said to me? That I'd have to make a choice?" Swing. Whack. Drakken screamed again. "That I'd have to decide what was more important to me." Swing. Thud.

Drakken tried to reach for something on the table. His outstretched arm was too inviting a target. Ron swung the bat. This time the thud was accompanied by a crunch; the sound of bone breaking under impact. "Guess what. I decided."

Now Ron was looking at his prey. For a moment, he understood what Drakken really was. Not a misunderstood genius, not a mad scientist with delusions of greatness, but a weak and pathetic child; an insect that could be crushed out of existence with a single thought. The innocent child in him wanted to spare Drakken and let him go. _He's learned his lesson. He won't come back. Just let him go_. But the older, more cynical side knew what would happen if Drakken were free in… three days, twelve hours and change. _Just one more for good measure. He can't give the order if…_ Ron smiled at his older self's creativity. And then swung the bat just one more time.

Kim had seen what Ron was doing to Drakken. She was in shock, and a little bit of awe. Never had she seen Ron respond to Drakken with this much ferocity. She stood there, stunned. Until she felt a booted foot connect with her lower back. Kim tumbled forward, recovering into a tuck-and-roll. She sprang to her feet and tensed, waiting for Shego's next strike. Right on cue, it came. Shego had fallen back on instinct. Three swings from the fists (Right, left, right) followed by a sweep to the knees by the left foot and a kick to the head by the right. Block right, block left, block right, jump… and grab. Shego looked stunned, but only for an instant, then she looked hurt as Kim applied leverage to Shego's leg, sending the villainess to the ground. Kim held on to Shego's leg and gave a gentle twist as she landed.

"The popping you just felt was the sound of your hip being dislocated. It'll be fine in a few days," Kim explained as she shifted her grip on Shego's leg.

Shego looked up at Kim through pain-clouded eyes.

"This, on the other hand, won't." Kim said as she twisted the lower half of Shego's leg. Something deep inside Kim's brain told her to stop when Shego started screaming in pain. Kim didn't listen. Shego screamed. Kim let go of the useless extremity, letting it fall to the ground. She leaned in close to Shego, looking her in the eye, and with a wink whispered softly into Shego's ear.

"That was for Sarajevo." Then, Kim did something uncharacteristic. She kissed Shego passionately on the lips. Shego's face widened in surprise. Skim stood up and wiped her lips on her sleeve.

"And that was from me, you traitorous bitch." Then, without missing a beat, Kim walked over to Ron and placed her hand on his shoulder.

"C'mon. Its time to go." She said softly into Ron's ear.

Ron pulled his cell phone out of one of his pockets and dialed 911. He explained where the two villains were and the medical attention they'd need.

After returning the cybernetic interface, Ron and Kim caught a taxi back to the airport to meet the plane that would take them back to Middleton. By now, the sun was setting. Soon it would be June fifth. One more day closer to the deadline, and no closer to saving the woman he loved.

Author's notes

Well, I suppose a quick trip into psychosis can be fun. Some people are going to freak out and tell me that I'm messing with the characters. Personally, I thought I captured Shego and Drakken pretty well. AS for Kim and Ron, I think I did them pretty well based upon information that will be revealed in the next chapter. Just 1 or 2 more chapters to go. Plus, thanks to some encouragement from a certain reviewer, I'll be adding an epilog and a chapter afterwards to clear up a few things people have commented on.

Keep those reviews coming. I'll try to reply to any questions people have, as long as you don't ask me to reveal anything.

H.


	6. Chapter 6

Second Chances

Chapter 6

Standard disclaimers apply. Disney Owns everything.

As they sat in the airport coffee shop, both of them felt more than a little unnerved at what they had just done and what they had each seen the other do. The post-combat shakes had passed long ago. The airport Starbucks was too noisy for a heartfelt conversation. So they waited. It was a painful silence. Each one stole glances at the other. A grande-venti mocciatto and a pumpkin muffin did not make for a dinner. Within a few moments of each other, both Kim and Ron glanced at their watches. The plane to take them home was still nowhere to be seen. Braving the silence, Kim stood up.

"I'm going to go over to the burger stand over on the concourse. I'll just be a minute or two." She said as she brushed the muffin crumbs off her shirt.

"You mind if I come with you?"

"Sure. If you want." Kim said flatly.

"Thanks. After four hours, these chairs are starting to hurt my butt." Ron said as he stood up and starting to rub his backside in a vain attempt to restore circulation.

They walked through the airport in silence. Up the escalator and through the promenade toward the burger stand. Ron stopped a few times along the way to glance into windows. At this time of night, precious few shops were open. Ron paused at a stall that was still under construction. His hopes of a real meal were dashed when he read the sign: Coming in July, Bueno Nacho. _Of course. One more thing to brighten my day._ Ron thought as he caught up to Kim.

Eventually, they found the restaurant, hidden away in the recesses of the terminal. The few employees that were there seemed glad to have customers. The burgers were over-priced and the fries were atrocious. Exactly like one would expect. The pair sat themselves at a corner table, as far from the terminal and as far from the employees as they could get. Again, an uncomfortable silence hung in the air. Until…

"What's going on?" Kim asked, dabbing mustard off the corner of her mouth.

"What do you mean? Nothing's going on. Wait, you mean back at the warehouse, don't you?"

Kim raised her eyebrows in a gesture that meant 'duh.'

"What do you mean 'What's going on'? I turned around and all of a sudden, you're Kissing Shego. Is there something I should know? Did I miss something? If there's a rational explanation, I'd love to hear it." Ron had started raising the volume in his voice. Kim could tell that his stress level was going up very quickly.

"Ssshhh. You're getting loud. Ron, relax. There's nothing going on between Shego and me. I just saw an opportunity to give her a little payback and I took it. No big."

"You paid her back by breaking her knee?"

"It seemed like the thing to do at the time." She smiled and popped a limp French fry into her mouth. "What about you and Drakken? What prompted you to beat him to a pulp? From what I saw, he's probably looking at a broken wrist, a shattered knee and that broken jaw you gave him. Ouch."

"Just like you, it seemed like the thing to do at the time."

The Kimmunicator beeped. It was the pilot. He had just landed. Within a few minutes, they were strapped in, airborne and en route to Middleton. Thirty minutes into the flight, Kim unbuckled herself from the seat she was in and moved across the cabin to where Ron was sitting stopping only briefly to close the small door that lead to the cockpit. She sat down gently into the soft leather seat. She smiled her best disarming smile at him and ran her hand through his hair. Her eyes met his and the electric bond between them surged. Kim kissed Ron gently on the lips in a kiss that meant no more than 'I love you'. She pulled back and continued gazing into his eyes. When finally she blinked, Ron knew it was time to start talking.

"Ron, we need to talk." She began.

"You're right, but please let me go first. Kimberly Ann Possible, I love you with every part of my being. You know I would do anything for you. You know I would lay down my life for you. You've been my best friend since we were four. And now, in two months, we're going to be married. The only thing standing between us living happily ever after is…"

"Is what? What happened back there? Ron, that was a one time thing. It's not going to happen—" Ron put his finger to her lips.

"Let me finish." Ron sighed. "You're going to think I'm out of my mind when I tell you how I feel about you." Ron put his hand on her cheek, feeling the soft skin and the warmth that emanated from her.

"But I already know how you feel. I've known it for a long time. And I feel the same way. There is nothing you can say or do that will change the way I feel about you." She turned her face into his hand and kissed his palm.

Ron steeled himself for what he was about to say.

"Kim. I am not the Ron you think I am."

She looked at him with some concern.

"Do I need to chuck you out that door?" She said as she looked at him with steely eyes as

"Nononono. No chucking required. Kim. I am Ronald Dean Stoppable. Up until last Friday morning, the morning of May 31st, I was 52 years old. I was given the opportunity to come back here and prevent you from being killed. As I remember it you were killed in the afternoon of…"

Kim was staring at him, not sure what to believe; hanging on every word until something finally came out of her mouth. She spoke it as a whisper, but the whisper resonated like a thunderclap in Ron's head. She spoke two words: "June 8th."

Ron stopped dead. He had thought of more to say to convince her, but she knew. Somehow she knew exactly what he had to say. Kim looked into his eyes, her lower lip quivered for a moment before she leapt forward into his arms. She cleared the narrow space between them with ease. Were it not for the seatbelt across Ron's waist, he would have been knocked to the floor. Her embrace was so hard that Ron had to struggle for air.

When she finally let him breathe again, she looked into his eyes. Tears had filed her eyes and the weatherproof mascara she wore had proven not to be. She wiped the tears out of her eyes and tried to breathe normally. That didn't work. The only thing she could say through the tears was "I thought I was alone. I thought I had lost you forever. I did so many things because you weren't there. So many terrible things. You went away and I tried to make the pain go away, but nothing helped. You took so much away when you died. I tried and tried and tried to make it stop, but you weren't there to save me. I'm so sorry."

It was all Ron could do to listen to Kim's confession. Slowly the reality of what she was saying crept into his skull.

"KP? Are you telling me that I died? That something happened to me and I died." She nodded. "And you're telling me that I died on June 8th?" Another nod. "I think I need a drink." Ron said as he blanched. "I can't have died. I remember you getting killed. So how could I have died on the 8th when you died on that day? Are we both dead? Is that what this is? Are we both ghosts? Is this heaven or something? Maybe we're in purgatory like that weird movie with Robin Williams." Ron was starting to worry. More than starting to worry, he was starting to get existential, and that worried Kim.

"Somehow, I don't see heaven looking like this." Kim rationalized. When she was calm, Kim turned and looked at Ron. Ron was still worrying, bordering on panicking. So she did the only thing she could think of to calm him down: she kissed him deeply and passionately until he broke the kiss due to lack of air.

"We need to think about this for a second," she told him. "How did you get here? What's the last thing you remember before you got here?"

Ron thought for a second or two.

"Where do you want me to begin? The last few hours before I got here or the short version of the past 33 years?"

"Thirty-three years? Wow. You've been gone only twenty-six years for me. Short form. What did you do for all those years?" Kim asked, her previous question now mostly irrelevant, and her curiosity piqued. She had moved from sitting next to Ron to being curled up against his chest. Ron had wrapped his arm around her, holding her close. As surreal as everything had become in the past ten minutes, she was his hold on reality and he wasn't letting go.

"I worked in a cube farm in San Francisco. I pushed numbers around a computer in an insurance company. Basically I had no life."

"Ever get married? Ever have kids?" Kim asked him as she played with his hand absentmindedly.

"Truth?"

"Uh huh. Truth. I want to know."

"Since you weren't around, I didn't have anything going for me. I was married twice. Both times they left me. No kids. After Rufus died of old age, I was alone. I just kind of gave up." Ron sighed. "Once or twice, in all those years, I missed you so badly I tried to 'check out'."

"I'm so sorry." Kim turned her head and gave him a peck on the cheek. Ron responded by giving her a squeeze around the midsection. "How did it happen? I mean how did I die?"

"It was a Drakken/ Shego mission that started out ok. We were mopping them up like always. Drakken had been goading me into fighting him. He was going to blow up Atlanta or something. He told me I had to make a choice between stopping him and saving Atlanta. You had Shego under control. I figured we'd get him next time. So I made a dash for the tsunami machine and turned it off. They were making their escape in their floater thing. As they went up, they knocked against the building. I saw them knock an I-beam loose. As it was falling toward you, rather than run to try and knock you out of the way, I hesitated and only shouted. You turned, and the I-beam hit your left side. It tore open your chest and belly. I tried to stop the bleeding, but it didn't help. I held on to you all the way to the hospital. The paramedics had to pry me off of you in the hospital. You were gone an hour later. It was such a stupid death. If I hadn't hesitated, you would have had time to move. If I'd have run and tackled you, you'd have been on the ground and the beam would have swung above us. I hesitated, you died. Then everything fell apart." Ron's voice had lost most of its inflection. For now he was telling a story that he had re-lived a thousand times.

"That's awful. I wish I could have been there for you." Kim said, feeling her own loss through his story. She smiled quickly. "But I was dead. But I'm better now." That earned a small laugh from Ron. He squeezed her waist again.

"What about you? What have you been doing while I was dead? How did I get it? Was it as stupid a death as yours?"

"You really want to know?"

"Yep. I figure if you can handle knowing, so can I."

"It started with the same mission. Tsunami Generator, big fight, you were the distraction for Drakken, I was fighting Shego. That I-beam that tore open my side? It caught you in the side of the head. You lasted a few minutes. You were gone before the paramedics arrived. The last thing you told me was how sorry you were for not being able to keep our date. I wanted to curl up and die with you when that happened. After that, I started taking dangerous missions. Not the dangerous missions we used to do, but really dangerous ones. A shrink I saw a couple of times said it was because I wanted to die but couldn't bring myself to commit suicide. That was the last time I saw the shrink. Wade stopped talking to me. Until we got back to Middleton, I hadn't seen my family in years. I started hanging out with Sheila… I mean Shego. She was my partner for a lot of things. I started doing assassinations and 'removals'. Then things went bad. Really bad. Then one day, out of the blue, I got 'acquired' by some really weird guys. They said I could take a one-way trip and try to save you, or I could take a one-way trip to an Afghani prison. These guys stuck me in a machine, and I wound up in my car in the campus parking lot last Friday."

"Wait. These guys that grabbed you, was one of them a tall guy with a smile that made you want to strangle him?"

"Yeah. And he had this little Asian girl following him around. And his name was Mc-something."

"I know him. Did he ask you to do him a favor before you left?"

"Yeah, he did. Except he wouldn't say what it was. He said I'd figure it out. Did he say the same thing to you?"

"Exactly the same thing. I'd say that I hate that guy, except he gave us a second chance to be together." Ron hugged her again. For a moment they were happy.

"Wait. I can still remember you getting killed. I thought those memories would change if we changed the past." Ron was beginning to have doubts. "Uh oh."

"Uh oh what?" Kim asked, tilting her head to get a better view of Ron.

"If we can still remember each other's deaths, that must mean that we haven't changed them. That means we're still going to die in a few days."

Kim looked at him, stunned.

"You're right. So how do we prevent this? I'm not in the mood to die again." She said getting worried about their future.

"Yeah. Once was enough for me too."

Kim picked up the headset from its hook on the wall and put on. She pressed the call button.

"Pilot? How long til we land in Middleton?"

There was an answer, but Ron couldn't hear the response.

"Thank you. Please let us know when we're close. Thanks again." With that, she hung the headset back up. She then dimmed the cabin lights, allowing the lights from the cities far below them to stream into the cabin.

Kim turned back to Ron. Ron had stretched out on the couch and was thinking about falling asleep for the remainder of the trip home. Kim looked at him and said, "Move over, lunkhead." Ron responded by sliding his body over a few inches to make more room for Kim. She curled up next to him and let the droning of the airplane start to lull them to sleep.

After nearly an hour of lying there in each other's arms, Kim looked into Ron's eyes and smiled her mischievous smile.

"Y'know, since we've both been dead, maybe a 'little death' might be fun."

"A what? A little death? I don't get it." Ron was confused.

"La petit mort. The little death." She said, sliding her hand under his shirt. "Or if you prefer Shakespeare to French," she said as she slid around his body, planting her leg on his far side and sliding her whole body around and straddled his waist "you could let me 'Die in your arms for all eternity'."

"Ohhhhh. I get it." Ron smiled. And for the next half hour, Ron and Kim's membership in the mile-high club was reviewed and approved.

Author's Notes: Firstly, this was originally intended to be a long chapter with the wrap-up of the story. Obviously, the end isn't here yet. I'll finish the story in the next chapter, I promise.

Second: The final chapter won't be the last one. The next chapter will end the story, then there's going to be an epilog and a chapter explaining what happened in Kim's life since Ron's death. All the stuff she alluded to in her tearful confession will be explained. I'm already writing that part. Due to some rather dark overtones and violence, that one chapter will be rated M. Whether I post it as a separate story or as the last chapter here with a whole lot of warnings has yet to be seen.

Third: The phrase 'la petit mort' and 'the little death' is the literal translation from French for Orgasm. The Shakesperian term 'To die in ones arms' has the same meaning. I'm trying to keep scenes like that fairly tame so that people that don't understand the phrasing (like kids) won't miss much, but adults and older kids will get it.

Finally, I hope you're enjoying the story. Yes, some people picked up on the plot early in the story. Congratulations, you're very clever. BUT, I'll bet you can't figure out the ending and the epilog. OR what MacCarran's mystery mission was.

The last chapter and epilog will be up in a week or so, and 'Alternate Beginnings' (Kim's story) will follow within a week.

H


	7. Chapter 8

June 8th. Breakfast time. Mr. & Mrs. Dr. Possible's Residence

In an effort to repay the Possibles for putting up with them for the time spent there, Ron routinely made at least one meal a day. Every time, he would get rave reviews from those that enjoyed his meals. Sometimes people would just 'happen to be in the neighborhood' when Ron was preparing something extravagant. "No biggie', he would always say, and somehow there was always enough to go around. This morning, however, things were different. Kim and Ron had spent the previous night talking into the wee hours of the morning. Afterward, they had spent many hours not sleeping. They lie there in bed, watching the clock tick off the minutes, knowing that each tic brought them that much closer to their date with destiny. Somewhere in the night they had faded into a fitful unconsciousness that gave them no respite from the events that were now only a few hours away.

Yesterday, they had decided to get in the car and drive down to Anaheim and take in Disney Land. That lasted about an hour. Somewhere south of Midleton, the Jeep had developed radiator problems, and they had to limp home. Sometime around noon, they tried again, but for some reason, a comedy of errors ensued and they couldn't seem to get to the train station in time to catch the train southward.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say there was a conspiracy going on." Ron commented as they stood at the train platform watching the train disappearing into the distance.

"I know the feeling." Kim replied, half numb at the continuous stream of bad luck they were suffering.

Today, they sat next to each other at the table, absently picking at the French toast and sausage in front of them.

"Now what do we do?" Kim asked absently as she bit into a sausage.

"Beats me. I mean how can this be happening? Drakken and Shego are still in the hospital. They can't initiate their plan, they can't give any orders, they can't use the tsunami machine, Atlanta isn't going to explode, they can't escape and the giant I-beam can't squash anyone. What are we missing?" Ron was now swinging his empty fork like some deranged conductor.

"Maybe we aren't missing anything." Kim sipped at her coffee dispassionately.

"Huh? I don't get it. We've prevented everything. Drakken's 'Master Plan' can't happen. We're safe. We get to live happily ever after. Case closed; end of story." Ron said with a degree of finality.

"Maybe not. What if the tsunami machine doesn't need Drakken or Shego? What if they were only part of the whole equation. What if our demise wasn't part of anything they did?" Kim said, staring into the swirling vortex that dwelled within her coffee cup.

"You mean that Drakken and Shego were merely 'window dressing' for something bigger and meaner that's still out there. Maybe the Tsunami Machine was just window dressing on this great conspiracy that's trying to get rid of us." Ron gaped as he tried to wrap his mind around what was said.

"Wait a sec. We don't even know if there **is** a conspiracy. All we've got is a string of bad luck."

Ron gathered up the dishes and deposited them in the sink. Doing dishes by hand rather than throwing them in the dishwasher usually gave him time to think. As the sink filled with warm soapy water, Kim slid up next to him and made sure that there was enough soap in the sink. As the sink filled, she gave a wry chuckle. "You wash, I dry?" she said with a smile on her lips. Like so much of their lives, this too had become a pause in their day that they both relished. As the dishes were washed, scrubbed, and dried they listened to the music of a radio playing in an upstairs bedroom. The time they spent here allowed each of them to just think. They had been together so long that they were probably thinking the exact same things, just not at the same time.

Ron had picked up one of the plates that had been soaking. The grease and syrup residue had almost disappeared. Halfway through scrubbing the residue off, Ron paused.

"I was just thinking." He said, the scrubber stopping in mid-stroke.

"About what?"

"About that MacCarran guy. He told both of us that there was a second reason we had to come back. Maybe that's why things haven't moved on. Maybe we've fixed our deaths but we haven't fixed the other thing."

"That's a great theory, Ron, but I can still remember what's going to happen. I can still remember everything else. And then there's that 'other thing'. Why wouldn't that little weasel tell us what to do? He just said 'Be yourself'. Who else would I be?"

"Well, I know of a cute little brunette that you could be." Ron smirked. His comment earned him a swat on the behind from Kim.

"Comments like that will have you sleeping on the couch, mister."

An hour passed. Then two. The tension and worry was becoming palpable in the air. Ron was lounging lazily on the couch, but the look of deep thought and concern had creased his brow. Kim was sitting cross-legged in the overstuffed papasan, not reading the magazine she had been flipping through for the past hour. Somewhere through the deafening silence the tweebs could be heard vaporizing some unsuspecting alien city.

Finally, in a moment of sheer disgust, Kim threw the magazine across the room. It crashed into the large, plate-glass window somewhere above Ron's head and slid to the floor.

"ARRRRGGH!" She screamed at the world in general.

"'Wasamatter, Kim?" Ron asked as he turned his head.

"This isn't working. I can't stand just sitting here and waiting. I swear the waiting is worse than anything else. We've won. But we haven't won yet. I HATE THIS!"

"Calm down." Ron said as he swung his body into a seated position. "I hate this as much as you do. But what can we do? We're in the safest place I can think of. Nothing short of a guided missile could reach us."

"Let's not give the powers-that-be any ideas, shall we?"

"Sorry. All I'm saying is that we just have to wait out a few more hours without getting killed. And if we stay here, someplace completely safe and secure, we'll be fine."

"I'm sure you're right." Kim said sheepishly, acknowledging her own stress and paranoia in the situation. She looked up at Ron who was now walking towards her with a reassuring smile on his face. Suddenly, the older Kim flared up in the back of her mind. She smiled at Ron.

"What's up?" he asked as he saw the smile on her lips.

She took his hand in hers and squeezed gently. "C'mon, future-boy. I want to get one more shot at all the tricks you learned without me." She began to pull Ron toward the staircase that lead up to her old room, now the guest room, that they had been sharing.

With three steps to go, the Kimmunicator beeped. "No rest for the wicked, I suppose." Ron chuckled.

"Don't think you're getting off that easily." Kim chided as she pushed the 'Respond' button on the small, plastic device.

"Hey Wade."

"Hey, Kim. How are you two holding up?"

"What do you mean?" Kim shot a look at Ron. They had agreed not to disclose their 'discrepency' with anyone. Not even their parents. Ron shook his head, indicating that he hadn't told anyone.

"I mean, it might be tough on you guys having to live with Kim's parents while you're back in town. Y'know. All that time on your own, now you're back at home…" Wade was starting to flounder. The expression on Kim's face told him that something else was going on, but as a reflection of his self-preservation instinct, he quickly changed the subject. "Ummm… I called to tell you that there's a couple of problems. First of all, the Navy called. They're having a problem with…"

"Wade, if you use the phrase 'Guided Missile' I'm going to reach through this thing and strangle you." Ron chuckled. "And then I'm going to punch Ron's lights out." Kim finished. Ron gulped in an attempt to stifle his laughter. It didn't help.

"Actually, its not the missiles themselves. It's the targeting system they're connected to. The _USS Normandy_ was testing a new targeting system. Now they can't raise her. The computer monitoring says that the Normandy is going to launch her compliment of gui… those things you don't want me to mention… at San Diego."

Kim scowled. "So what do they want me to do?"

"Well, the way the Navy sees it, you can either go aboard the _Normandy_ and try to stop the computer from launching," Wade started, "Or you can head to San Diego and take out the target."

"Wait, Wade" Ron interrupted. "What target?"

"The _Normandy's_ computer has locked on to a radio beacon of some kind and has identified it as the dummy target ship it was supposed to be aiming for."

"So if we find the beacon, we become the target." Kim reasoned.

"Well, actually, it looks like all you have to do is turn it off or move it. Looks pretty straightforward to me." Wade took a long pull of his soda.

"Hang on a sec." Kim hit the 'mute' button. "Well, partner, which one? The ship or the city?" she asked Ron.

"I say we flip for it. Let chance decide our fate." Ron fished a quarter out of his pocket.

"Heads we go to the boat, tails we head for San Diego." He flipped the coin.

A few hours later.

"San Diego. What is it with this place? Why do we keep winding up here?" Ron complained.

"Remember the conspiracy that didn't exist?" Kim asked as she checked her backpack for the fiftieth time.

Ron nodded solemnly.

"This is it. This is where we both got it. This is the endgame. This is where we figure out if we get to grow old together or if we wind up in pine boxes together. It all comes down to one last chance." Kim was getting more and more stoic as time passed. She glanced at Ron and took his hand in hers, "And whatever happens, we'll be together."

"Together." Ron smiled and paused thoughtfully. "All I know is that I'm never coming back to San Diego as long as I live." Ron declared as he took a swig of his bottle of water.

"Never? It'd be a shame never to get to see Sea World." Kim joked, her face lighting up with a smile.

"OK, maybe for Sea World." Ron smiled back at her.

They waited in silence.

When the helicopter dropped them off, Kim began to scan back and forth with the Kimmunicator and its upgraded software package. After several minutes of sweeping, there appeared a small bleep on the tiny glowing screen.

"Bingo." Kim whispered.

Ron was massaging his temple trying to alleviate a headache that had been moving in ever since they had started this mission. _This mission. The one we aren't supposed to be on. The one I'm supposed to stuff Kim in a closet for. Man. I'm already screwing this up. I can't let this end badly. I have one chance at this. No hesitation. Just do it. That's it… just do it. If I just do the right thing and not hesitate, nothing can go wrong._

"Hey, Ron! Lets go! We need to get out of here; we got things to do before things get out of hand." Kim shouted at Ron from the fire escape, where she was already half a story down.

"Coming!" he shouted back as he ran toward the edge of the roof.

Within fifteen minutes, they were on the third floor of a low-rent apartment building. The kimmunicator said that they were within five feet of the signal. Kim pointed at the battered wooden door and readied herself to crash through it. In an uncharacteristic move and a sudden burst of speed and force, Ron threw himself at the door. The door responded by disintegrating into a pile of splinters and shrapnel. Ron fell onto the floor of the room. Kim looked at him in disbelief for a moment and then stepped over his prone form to get a better look at the room. She surveyed the room quickly.

The room beyond was empty. Almost. Set in the center of the room was a small wooden table. Atop the table was a fruit basket. The basket was filled to overflowing with apples and oranges and other assorted fruits. In a calligraphic hand, the words 'Dr. Drakken and Shego' were written on a small envelope taped to the top of the basket. With a careful and suspicious hand, Kim crossed the short distance from the door to the table. Behind her, she could hear Ron picking himself up from the ground and dusting himself off. Kim opened the card with a gentle hand. A folded piece of paper fell to the ground. Within the card was a note written in the same elegant hand.

To my dearest enemies:

It is a pity that every game must have a winner and a loser. This time I have won and you have lost. Thank you so very much for playing, but this time, my dear Doctor Drakken, you and that gorgeous sidekick of yours have lost. Now I have the Pan-Dimensional Vortex Inducer and you have something else.

Best Wishes,

Doctor Dementor.

PS—message continues on the next page

Kim looked at the note card. By this time, Ron had picked up the small, folded slips of paper that had fallen. He was looking at them with a confused look.

"What do they say?" Kim asked him.

Ron handed the slips of paper to her. Taking them in her gloved hand she looked at them. The first one had a large number '3' written on it in heavy red ink. The second had a large number '2' written in the same hand. Kim's eyes went wide as she realized what they meant. As if by telepathy, Ron noticed her expression and made the connection as to the significance of the numbers. The pair immediately turned and began to run; but not in the same direction. Ron made a furious dash for the window and the fire escape beyond. Kim was sprinting for the doorway they had entered from.

The poorly constructed window frame and thin glass exploded as Ron threw himself onto the fire escape. He hit the wrought-iron railing with a bone-crunching thud as the ral caught him squarely in the belly. Pausing for an instant as he winced in pain, Ron glanced up. Far away, he could see a cluster of white and silver streaks with long wisp-like contrails moving over the city. The missiles were already on the way. Ron threw himself over the first railing of the fire escape. Instinct had taken over. Adrenaline was now flowing through his veins; the ancient fight-or-flight reflex was in command of his body. He could feel each stair pounding beneath his feet as he decended toward the street level.

But then, as quickly as it began, a voice in the back of Ron's head voiced a different opinion. Quite simply, it said: 'No'. Ron stopped. The voice spoke up again. 'Not this time. You are not a coward.' Ron turned around and began to race up the stairs.

"Why aren't I afraid?" Ron asked himself as the stairs passed beneath him two at a time.

"Because fear is what you feel when you don't know what's going to happen next. We know what happens next. We lose. Everyone else wins. Even Kim." The voice told him.

"We only get one chance at this. So make it count." Ron whispered to himself. As he heard himself say it, he wasn't really sure what version of himself was saying it. But whoever it was, they were giving him the confidence to do this.

Before he could say or do otherwise, Ron was at the shattered window. Then he was inside the room. He xould see his hands take the fruit basket in hand and flip it over, looking for the beacon. Nothing. Panic began to set in. Ron flipped over the table. Still nothing. Ron looked around, fear was beginning to take hold. There. Over the door was a small black box taped to the wall. Ron lept up and grabbed it. All he could see was a blinking red LED. No switches, no buttons, no nothing. Ron paused for the briefest of moments deciding how to poen the smooth plastic box. With a mighty swing, he smashed the opaque plastic box to the floor, utterly destroying the housing. Ron gripped the circuit board inside, and with herculean effort, broke the small silicon wafer into as many pieces as he could manage.

Ron smiled a satisfied smile.

But Mother Nature has rules to follow. A missile in flight still has to go somewhere. The Normandy had launched 8 of her missiles. Five crashed into old, dilapidated buildings. One put a crater in the Santa Monica freeway. Two found their original target.

Ron was standing up. He had let the inert lumps of plastic that had once been an integrated circuit fall to the floor. He had taken two steps toward the door when the world exploded around him. This time, the pain wasn't nebulous and formless like it had been when he was shipped across thirty years. This time the pain was sharp, focused and all around him. Brick walls exploded around him. Masonry and drywall were reduced to a lung-choking powder. Steel pipe became shrapnel. Even the fire escape that had once been his friend came hurling towards him in a million jagged, burning pieces. The only thought Ron had before he was blown through an intervening wall was 'Oh, shi…'

Blackness.

More blackness.

Ron opened an eye. It hurt. His front hurt. His sides hurt. His head hurt. He opened his other eye. It wouldn't open. It felt swollen. It hurt. _Wait. Pain. I'm in pain. If I'm in pain, I'm not dead._ Ron tried to smile at this nugget of wisdom. His face hurt too much to smile. He coughed. He tasted blood. His ears were ringing. He could feel sunlight on his face. He could feel something underneath him. With his one working eye, Ron looked down and saw a massive, dark-red piece of steel. An I-beam. Not just any I-beam, but a very special one. One that would not be claiming any lives today. Not today, not ever. For what it was worth, it was a small victory.

Ron lay draped over the I-beam for what felt like hours. More likely only a few minutes, but when you're in pain, time slows down. I should scream, he thought. I can feel that I'm probably bleeding out. This is my last chance. I have to do this in case Kim is still out there.

Ron screamed. It wasn't strong, it wasn't loud, but it still counted as a scream. And a painful one at that. Ron went back to waiting. As he waited, the hallucinations began. There was the armadillo that tried to explain the changes in the new tax code to him. There were the snakes that tried to steal his boots. There was even the swarm of tiny green horses that wanted Ron to get off their I-beam. And then there was the angel.

No. It wasn't an angel. Angel's aren't cut and bleeding. Angels aren't standing there wearing only a bras and half a pair of pants because their shirt is now a sling, and their pants are now a tourniquette. It was Kim. A little beaten, bruised, battered and burned; but it was Kim.

She climbed up and helped Ron off the I-beam. As they sat their and listened to the rescue vehicles approaching, Kim turned to Ron and said, "I told you we could beat this one. See we're both alive and its…"she glanced at her watch. It didn't survive the devastation. "Well, its time to go home."

Ron rolled his head loosely and looked at her. "Thanks partner. I told you we could pull this one off."

"Even after I told you not to take any chances, you went and did all this?" Kim chided him, her pain creeping into her voice.

"Hey, I did all this for you. Don't you believe in second chances?"

The End.

EPILOG 

It was a glorious spring day. Everything was perfect. Perfect sunshine, perfect temperature, perfect everything.

Ron glanced out at the people sitting in the park. The massive vases of flowers stood in perfect formations at the front of the rows. In front of him, he could see Stoppables and Possibles sitting in the crowd. Ron fidgeted with his bowtie one more time. It hadn't gone anywhere. The music began. He turned and took the arm that was offered to him.

Minutes later, the priest was finally reaching the important part.

"Do you, Christina Kimberley Stoppable take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

"I do." Her voice was tiny, but strong. Her parents had given her that strength.

"And do you, James Eugene MacCarran take this woman to be your wife?"

"I do"

And with those words, Christina Stoppable, daughter of Ron and Kim Stoppable was married. She married a man that would never know what his future might have been. But if the past were an indication of the future, she might.

Author's notes 

Sorry it took a while to finish this last chapter. Two moves and a new job will do that to you.

I wasn't happy with chunks of this, and the epilog seems too slipshod. But you get the idea. One of my betas made me rewrite MacCarran's final role. Maybe when I get some time, I"ll redo the epilog.

Anyhow, I hope you enjoyed the story. I enjoyed writing it for you. I promise I'll write more when I get another idea.

As for now, I have another story to finish so that I'm not lynched in my sleep.

Have a better one.

Horatius.


	8. Alternate Beginnings

Alternate Beginnings

An alternate chapter for the story 'Second Chances'

WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING

The Following chapter is rated M+ for issues of language, violence, and sexual conduct (Please note: CONDUCT, not ACTIVITY). If you are under age or are easily offended, DO NOT READ THIS CHAPTER.

This chapter details what Kim has been up to for all these years, why she did what she did in previous chapters and why she did what she did to Shego.

Hotel Europa, Warsaw, Poland 5:52 AM, Early November.

Beep-beep-beep

Beep-beep-beep

Beep-beep-whack.

The portable alarm clock died a horrible and grotesque death.

-groan-

-grumble-

The woman that was once Kim Possible, teen super-hero, opened one eye and peered into the darkness of the hotel room. On the other side of the bed, another form groaned and settled back into the thick blanket. The air was cool, bordering on cold. She drug her weary body out of bed and toward the bathroom. Even the richly carpeted floor was cold under her bare feet. The cool air played against her skin, raising the gooseflesh along every exposed surface of her body. She didn't notice the cold until her feet hit the tile floor of the bathroom. She bit her lip rather than yelp at the sudden onslaught of cold.

_I fucking hate the cold_. She thought to herself as she peered into the mirror. The face that looked back was not a happy one. It was tired and worn down by a lifetime of living too close to the edge. _Why the hell am I in Poland in November? I could be in Cancun. I could be anywhere else but here._ The water she splashed on her face was as chilly as her disposition.

After a moment or two of contemplation at her current locale, she reached into the shower and felt the water. Warm enough, she thought as a wall of steam billowed out of the stall and obscured the mirror. Her reflection properly hidden, she stripped off the t-shirt she had worn to bed the night before and stepped into the shower. She let the hot water cascade over her aching bones and muscles, easing the stiffness out of them. Kim took the washcloth and began to scrub her body clean. She scrubbed some of the old scars harder than she should, recalling the injuries that made them. Every slice, every slash, every compound fracture had a memory behind it. Scars were nature's way of reminding her that she had made a mistake. Every day, she ran her fingertips over the old and faded scars. Some scars didn't leave a physical mark, and those were the most painful. Kim was sliding her fingertips over the old scar that marked where a dagger had penetrated her belly and cost her the better part of her reproductive system. Sometimes she regretted what she had lost. Sometimes.

Something in the back of her brain clicked. Outside the obscured walls of the shower stall, there was motion. People-sized motion. She pulled back a fist, ready for the wrong person to come through the door. The latch on the door clicked. Kim took a breath. The door opened. A face poked into the oversized stall; the right face. A pale-complexioned, black haired face poked in, and smiled.

"Morning, princess. Thought you might need someone to come and scrub your back." Shego smiled, taking in Kim's lack of dress and drowned-rat look. "Looks like I got here just in time." Shego pulled the towel from her body and hung it on the hook outside the shower. She then stepped into the shower and allowed the humid warmth to work its magic on her bones while her fingers worked their magic on Kim's wet and soapy body.

It wasn't that Kim had completely 'gone over to the other team'. She still enjoyed the touch of a man. It was just that certain people better understand the lifestyle she was a part of. When you face great risk and the possibility death or dismemberment (or worse) on a daily basis, its nice to have someone who understands what you're talking about. When Kim began her new life, she and Shego drifted toward each other. They went from being arch-enemies bent on destroying each other with a moment's notice, to tolerating each other's presence to occasional friends to drinking buddies to partners and finally to roommates and occasional lovers. When Kim thought about it, it was kind of natural for them to be so involved in each other's lives. Kim was perfectly happy with men, but at the end of the day, she just wanted someone who understood what she went through day-in and day-out. And that person just happened to be Shego. The fact that the person who happened to understand her also happened to currently have her fingers and tongue buried deep inside Kim's body making her scream out loud was just an added bonus.

Long after the warmth and passion had faded, Kim began to make an earnest effort to begin her day. Somewhere in the distance, she could hear Shego on the telephone, talking to someone. She could also hear the other three members of her team laughing and joking over the breakfast that had been delivered. Kim's breakfast usually consisted of some toast and fruit grabbed en route to somewhere. Kim took her small jewelry box from the counter and opened it. She looked at the only thing inside: a small dark-colored ring, suspended from a chain. She never wore it when she was with Shego. Way too weird. But when she was 'working', it never left her body. It had been a part of her for many years. It was the only thing she took with her from her old life. It was the only thing that reminded her of Ron. She could feel the giant gap his departure had left in her life. Even after all the intervening years, there was still a giant empty place in her heart. As she put the chain around her neck, she kissed the ring. _Maybe this time we'll be together, my love_.

When Kim had dressed and rinsed the toothpaste from her mouth, she finally joined her colleagues.

"Morning guys. What's on the menu this morning?"

"Same shit, different country." Someone said while Kim snagged a piece of dark rye toast from someone's plate.

Same old banter. Different day.

Shego snapped her cell phone closed and muttered something under her breath.

"Well, kiddies, after that last cluster fuck of an assignment, our target is running scared. He's hired on about thirty more bodyguards and hasn't left his estate in almost a week. If we're ever going to get paid for this bastard, he needs to become worm food. And to make that happen, we need a plan." Shego bit into a peach.

"We could 'mis-direct' some artillery onto his estate." Someone offered.

"I know some Russian mobsters that could get us a nuke. Maybe even some nerve gas." Someone else offered.

"Sure. Nerve gas and a nuke. That'll make us real popular with the UN Commission on High Crimes." Shego added.

"Like we aren't popular with them now. Puhleez. Has anyone taken a count of just how many 'Enemies of Humanity', 'Local Warlords', and 'Drug Families' have vanished off the face of the earth because of what we do every day. And just because we get paid for it…" Kim started, sanctimoniously.

"And how many women, children and innocent families have met the exact same fate, princess?" Shego smiled one of her evil smiles.

"They were all collateral damage. If they weren't guilty of something, they wouldn't have been there." Kim replied, crossing her arms on her chest.

The bickering began. They were always bickering when they were trying to come up with a plan. Both Kim and Shego had commented on several occasions that the group sounded like a collection of four-year-olds when they argued. The arguing went on and on for several minutes. Kim had added a few snips and comments into the fray, but had added nothing significant to the conversation. Then Kim noticed that Shego was just sitting there. Just sitting on a chair, leaning back, and just watching the fray between bites of fruit. Shego was always one to play devil's advocate and contribute to a good argument. Shego smiled and cocked an eyebrow, but said nothing.

"Ok, _Sheila,_ what's up?" Kim asked. She stressed Shego's real name to draw attention to her and stress the fact that she was serious about her question. "Usually, you're in the middle of the argument, trying to maximize the casualties." Kim paused and considered Shego's behavior. Smiling, she said: "You know something, don't you? _Don't you, Sheila_." Again she stressed the words trying to draw emphasis toward her partner.

"Of course I do. Who the hell do you think I've been on the phone with all morning? Christ. You people would be chalk outlines if it weren't for me. Of course I know something." Shego half-laughed.

"Well, spill it. What do you know that we don't?" Someone asked.

Shego pulled out her notepad. "The warlord Uwe (pronounced OO-way) Bezdeczeck (Bez-DA-check) was born in Sarajevo in the old Yugoslav Republic in 1979. Educated in Germany, blah-blah-blah, blah-blah-blah, blah-blah-blah. Here we go. Married to Katriona von Ulfe in 2002. One child, a daughter named Laurelei. Mother and daughter killed in a Serbian attack on November 17, 2006."

"So what. That was over twenty years ago." One of the team members added, his frustration level increasing.

"Guess what he does every November 17th, smart guy." She asked, slapping him with the notepad.

An eyebrow furrowed as a realization slowly set in.

"That's right. He's a creature of habit." Shego contributed as she popped the last piece of the peach into her mouth.

"What? What does he do every November?" Kim asked a trace of hope in her voice.

Shego smiled her smug little smile. "Every November 17th, usually just after sunrise, but before noon, he goes to the cemetery where they are buried, and places a dozen white roses at the statue of an angel that watches over the cemetery. He then says something to them and leaves."

"That it?"

"Almost. It seem that someone with a whole lot of money just tried to cover up a flight plan between here and Sarajevo on the 16th. I think a Greek Orthodox cemetery would be a perfect place for him to meet his maker."

"It'll be nice to get the whole family back together, won't it?" Kim smiled one of those malicious smiles she had become so famous for.

Sunrise, four days later.

It was a cold morning. There was a layer of snow on the ground a few inches deep. The Sarajevo cemetery was surrounded by the ruins of buildings. Somewhere during the brief era of peace that overtook Yugoslavia, western developers had come in and tried to rebuild the city. Then, when tensions returned, the western-owned parts of town were among the first to be targeted by Croatian forces. Oddly, the cemetery was left untouched. Somehow, the large angelic statue, the Madonna of Sarajevo, was untouched. Years of house-to-house, street-to-street fighting had never touched the statue. Its white marble surface was unscathed by the ravages of time and man. Even the child the angel held in its arms bore a look of innocence. By mutual unspoken agreement, there was no fighting in the cemetery. Under the statue's watchful eye, divine peace was enforced.

But if all went well, that would change today. For today, a war criminal would cease to exist.

Somewhere in one of the buildings, a man lay prone in the rubble with a very powerful rifle. He had been there for hours, waiting patiently for an opportune moment. In another building, a man was waiting with a light machine gun. A few hundred yards away, a woman sat in a car, the engine running, waiting to move at a moment's notice. And standing in the graveyard, two women waited for the right moment.

Kim and Shego (occasionally Sheila) stood in the cold morning air. They were dressed in long black dresses and mourning veils. They stood near a tall granite obelisk of a headstone. The snow crunched quietly under their shoes as they waited. Kim stood quietly next to Shego. Their hands were frozen and their feet were approaching frostbite. Kim could feel the cold steel of the combat knives tucked close against her forearms. Against her thigh and belly she could feel the hard metal and plastic of the MP5K submachinegun, caressing her reassuringly.

"Hey, Kimmie." Shego whispered in her ear over the tiny wireless communications network.

"What?"

"This is getting boring."

"This was _your_ plan. If you're bored, find something to entertain your mind."

Almost five minutes passed before Shego spoke again.

"Hey Kimmie." Shego whispered in a low husky tone.

"Now what, Sheila?" Kim replied in an annoyed tone.

"Guess what I'm not wearing under this dress?"

"Oh Christ, not again." The woman in the car grumbled.

"Shut up, Honda." Shego hissed into the microphone, her anger directed back at the woman in the car.

"So, Kimmie, guess what I'm not wearing." Shego teased.

Kim chuckled lightly into the mic.

"That's right. There's nothing under here but me. I can feel the smg's leather straps against my skin. Oh, god it feels so good. When I squeeze my thighs together, I can feel the little pistol rubbing against me. It's making me sooooooo wet. Just telling you about it makes me want to throw you down on the ground, right here, right now. I don't care who's watching us. I want to take my fingers and run them all over your body. I want to…"

"Shego, quit screwing around. I know you're dressed under there."

"Are you sure? I mean really sure?"

Kim paused.

"Honda," Shego called for the driver softly.

"Go." Honda, the woman in the getaway car replied.

"There's a bag under the passenger seat. Open it and tell the princess here what's' in it."

There was a pause.

"There's clothing in here… Looks kind of like the clothes you were wearing this morning."

"See, Kimmie. Toldja so. Y'know, I'll bet that even Honda was getting all hot and bothered over there, sitting all alone in the car. I'll bet she even had her hands in her pants didn't you, Honda?" Shego continued using her most seductive voice.

"I …" came the response from the getaway driver, some nervousness creeping into her voice.

"I thought so." Shego said with an evil, self-satisfied smile.

"I'll even bet that 'Bird' is getting a little uncomfortable up there in his little sniper nest. Way, way, way up there. I'll bet he can see me perfectly. I'll even bet he can see everything right through my dress. I'm perfectly backlit. I'll bet he can see everything, can't you, Bird?" by now, Shego was now practically oozing sex through her microphone. The heat she was projecting could turn Sarajevo into a balmy paradise if she let it.

Bird's only reply was a quiet grunt that came through everyone's earpiece loud and clear.

"And then there's Casey. I know he's listening. Sitting there all hunkered down…" Shego paused. "But I guess he doesn't have much to say right now, do you, Casey?"

"So, Kim, what do you think? Interested in taking a little break before things get all hot and heavy?"

"Knock it off Shego, we're here to do a job and get paid. I don't need distractions. Especially not today, and especially not from you." Kim chided Shego angrily.

"Awwwwww, wassamatter, princess? Didn't cum hard enough this morning? Or did you want to be on top?" Shego was referring to a non-existent sexual encounter, trying to bait Kim into an argument.

"Shut up, Shego. Or so help me I will…" Kim hissed at Shego until she paused to listen to something half heard in her earpiece. There wasn't much of a sound, but it was a sound. Distant. Static, perhaps? Something electronic, certainly.

"Did you hear that?" Kim whispered.

"Hear what?"

"I dunno, but something isn't feeling right." The same instinct that served her well for years was making itself known. "Radio check. Everyone check in." Kim whispered into the headset.

Silence.

"She said 'Radio check' you morons." Shego said.

Silence again.

"I think something's wrong." Shego whispered.

"For once I think you're right. I think it might be time to move." Kim said, a hint of fear starting to creep into her voice. The two of them started to walk toward the main gate of the cemetery. Not running yet, but just walking with a purpose. Somewhere off in the distance, there was a rumbling. It wasn't so much that you could hear it, but rather you could feel it deep in your bones and in the pit of your stomach. Feeling this, the pair walked faster. They were headed for a small doorway that marked where a café once stood; somewhere in the distant past, before someone had set fire to it. Through the café they went, out the gaping hole in the back wall to where Honda was. They could hear the engine of the getaway car still purring. A faint clout of exhaust encircled the car in the cool air. As they approached, they could see the driver's seat. The window was broken and the front windshield was dark. It wasn't tinted dark; it had been rendered dark from the layer of blood and brains that were splattered across the inside of the car.

"Oh my god." Shego gasped uncharacteristically. The pair stopped dead in their tracks.

They could see the driver's window had been shattered. More than half of Honda's skull was no longer attached to her body, but rather was more-or-less evenly scattered about the window and passenger seat.

"What the hell did that?" Kim asked, her blood turning icy.

"I don't know, but it wasn't a bullet, and I'm not waiting around to find out." Shego grabbed Kim by the arm and started to move back into the café. Once inside, they pulled off the conservative black dresses they were wearing, to reveal more typical clothes: jeans, sweatshirts, sneakers and the like.

"Now where? Whoever did this is looking for us." Kim said, re-tying the laces on her shoes.

"Airport. Definitely the airport. Then we get out of here. This is bad, real bad. A whole new kind of bad."

The rumbling in the distance was getting louder. As it became more audible, a second sound was added. The new sound was a constantly pulsing noise. More of a whup-whup-whup than anything else. The new sound was obvious: a helicopter. And a big one at that.

The pair began to run through the semi-deserted streets and buildings. Soon, they had reached one of the few remaining highways that lead out of the city. All they had to do was follow it to the airport. The GPS mapper that Shego carried said that it was only a few miles to the airport. Then they could be on a plane on their way to someplace warm. Kim smiled at the idea of getting out of Yugoslavia.

As they sat gathering their breath, a brick wall behind them exploded. Not from mortar fire or a grenade, but from a tank crashing through it. When the rubble and smoke cleared, the tank leveled its old multi-barreled rotary cannon at them and fired. In a second, over six hundred shells raced toward Kim and Shego's position. The old concrete park bench where they had been sitting an instant ago was vaporized, leaving only some white concrete dust to mark where it had once stood. The pair began to run as fast as they could. The puny small arms they carried would be no match for the tank. It may have been old and refitted, but it was still a tank.

The tank swiveled and began to race after them. Into and through the old buildings it chased them. They ran into and around the buildings, it ran through them. At one point, Kim and Shego were hidden in an old drainage culvert. The cold, stagnant water swam up around their knees. The tank seemed to have trouble finding them. They could hear it swiveling its turret as it searched. Quietly the pair tried to catch their breath. They cupped their hands over their mouths to prevent the steam of their breath from becoming visible. As they waited for the tank to go away, they could hear voices. They were shouting in Slavic to each other. This was a good sign. If they were Yugoslavian, that meant they were more interested in finding Serbian or Croatian troops than a pair of Americans. Then there was another voice. It spoke Slavic, but it was slurred, distorted, almost corrupted. Like it was being mixed with another language. Kim and Shego exchanged some hand gestures. Author's note: Military and police hand gestured do not translate directly into English. What follows is a translation for the uninitiated.

"What do you think?"

"Take a look. They're that way."

"Cover me."

"Got you covered. Go."

Kim slowly peeked over the edge of the concrete culvert. She could see the tank; an old T-72 that had seen better days. She could see some Yugoslavian ground troops; probably regulars, all armed with the ubiquitous AK-74 and AKM assault rifles. But further down what remained of the street was something new. It wasn't the helicopter, that was an American-made Sea-Knight heavy-lift helicopter. The troops that were milling around it were new. They were clad in dark green urban fatigues and body armor. It wasn't the armor of the fatigues or the weapons that they carried that bothered Kim, it was the relaxed confidence they exuded. It was the air of efficiency and skilled perfection that they radiated. Kim slid back down into the culvert and gave Shego the "We are so fucked" hand sign.

"What do you see?"

"Thirty or forty regular troops, one armored vehicle, one helicopter and about fifteen elite troops, all heavily armed." Kim gestured.

"What do you want to do?" Shego signed, her face looking like she'd just stepped into something a dog would leave behind.

"Split up and make a break for it?" Kim suggested.

"No. Stick together."

"I think we should go that way"

"Sounds like a plan."

"Ready?"

"Wait one."

Shego raised two fingers to her lips and kissed them. She then put the kiss on the tip of Kim's nose. Kim smiled and felt a slight blush grace her cheeks. That was one thing she loved about Shego: She always knew how to make her smile in a tough situation. Just like someone else, a long time ago. A wisp of melancholy danced at the edge of Kim's mind. A memory was trying to force itself up out of the darkness unbidden. _Not now._ Kim thought to herself.

The pair quietly came up to the edge of the culvert. There was a building not more than twenty meters from where they were. If they did this right, they would only be exposed for about seven seconds. Kim tapped Shego when she was ready to run. Shego nodded and counted. One…two… three. And on three, they began to run. They ran at a pace that would put a sprinter to shame. For what sprinter ever had the encouragement of a group of armed men firing at them? The ground passed below them. Three meters (breathe)

Six meters (breathe), nine meters (breathe- we're halfway there).

Somewhere behind them, someone shouted. There was a short chatter of weapons fire. More shouting. Twelve meters. Then there was an unmistakable 'bloonk' kind of noise; a grenade launcher. Then another and another and another. Kim braced for the explosions that were coming. Fifteen meters. (Almost there) There was an explosion to her right. Kim glanced over. She couldn't see Shego any more. Keep going. Then there were bursts all around her. She felt a shock wave rip her from the ground and throw her into a wall. The ancient mortar in the wall crumbled, half-burying her in a pile of rubble. Black and gray started to edge into her vision. The painful noise was disappearing from her ears. _So this is what its like. We did it. We're together again. Looks like I'll be there in time to keep that dinner date, Ron_. A single tear rolled down the side of her face as the darkness overtook her.

Somewhere in the blackness, Kim's brain turned itself back on. She could smell cool, clean air. There was a padded table beneath her. It was warm and soft. Her arms and legs were a little stiff and sore. Her torso felt like one giant body bruise. She could hear the regular beep-beep-beep noise of an EKG machine. Somewhere, very far away, she could hear music. Someone nearby was listening to some very old Ozzy Osborne. _Bark at the Moon? That's what they listen to here? This can't be heaven. I hate Ozzy Osborne. _ She could feel that a thin cotton sheet covered her body. The smell and feel of the crisp, cool linen was unmistakable. Below that, she had been stripped. She was wearing a pair of panties, and nothing else. And they weren't even her panties. They had a silky feel to them and seemed to be more the size of boxers. _Well, at least they gave me something to wear._

Slowly, carefully, Kim opened one eye just enough to see the room around her. She could see machinery. She could see some people. None of them were paying attention to her. Kim tested her arms and legs. _Nothing broken_. When she pulled at them, she discovered that she was held in place with heavy restraints. After a few minutes, a smallish Asian woman came over to her. The woman shook her head when she looked at Kim. She then looked at a few displays near Kim's bed and then moved on.

An hour passed. Then two. Kim could feel the effects of various drugs as they passed through her system. Technicians came and went. Machines both large and small came and went as well. In a very non-invasive way, Kim knew she was being prodded and measured and scanned from every angle and vantage point. While she was feigning sleep, every part of her body was prodded and examined. Blood was even drawn. For what purpose, Kim didn't know.

By the end of the fourth hour, Kim was starting to debate whether or not she could maintain this act much longer. She had been listening to the people and the world around her, and had come to the conclusion that she was not in a hospital. At least not in the conventional sense. The people around her had little or no bedside manner, and didn't really care about her as a person, but rather as a science experiment.

The young Asian woman that had stopped by several times was approaching again. Kim had learned to recognize her by the jasmine scent of her perfume. The technicians in the room all had the antiseptic smell about them. This time, there was an additional smell that had entered the room. It was a sweaty, earthy smell with a hint of machine oil. The Asian woman had very refined footfalls, indicative of someone who had worked in an office building for a very long time. The other person was wearing heavy boots, but he was comfortable in them. He walked efficiently, but with a minimum of sound being generated in each step. Whoever he was, someone had trained him; trained him very, very well and for a very long time. They both stopped about five feet away.

"She's been asleep a long time. Do you think we used too much tranquilizer on her?" The woman said. Kim could hear her getting close. _All I have to do is grab her. With a hostage, I could make a break for it._

"She isn't asleep. She's been awake and listening to us for hours. Haven't you, Kim?"

Kim's eyes opened. The first thing she saw was the young Asian woman backing up at a high rate of speed. Kim's first impulse was to leap from the table and make a grab for the young woman for use as a human shield. She got less than a foot before she realized that even though the heavy straps had been removed, she was still manacled to the table.

"What the hell are you doing to me? What the hell kind of place is this?" Kim shouted fighting against the plastic manacles that were holding her down.

The man smiled at her. The smile was cold, to say the least. It was the kind of smile a shark would get before devouring a seal pup. It was… the same kind of smile Kim used to get just before she 'retired' someone.

"Now that you're awake, I'd like to talk to you."

"About what, you slimy son-of-a-bitch?" Kim spat at him. "Gonna make me an offer I can't refuse? Huh? Gonna threaten to turn me over to your troops as a sex toy until I answer some of your questions? Torture? Is that what gets you off?"

"Well, as soon as you stop ranting like a psychopath, I'd like to talk to you about your mother and Mister Ronald Dean Stoppable."

Kim's blood went cold. She immediately stopped shouting. She tried to relax. Not that it helped, but she tried.

"Very good, Miss Possible. I guess there is still some humanity left in you. I'm impressed. Now then, would you rather continue this discussion here, or somewhere more comfortable? That is, assuming you can behave yourself."

"I suppose I'd like to get up."

He nodded toward a soldier standing by the door. The soldier approached calmly. He pointed the muzzle of his rifle directly at Kim's midsection.

"I know you won't try anything, but just in case you get any stupid ideas, sergeant White will help you to reconsider your course of actions." With that, Kim was released from her shackles. The young Asian woman helped Kim out of the myriad of electronic leads and cables that were attached to her body. Kim got up off the table. She was handed a hospital-style robe.

"If you'll follow me, ma'am, we can find you something to put on." The woman said as she led Kim out of the lab.

A few minutes later, Kim was sitting in a conference room clad in blue-green hospital scrubs. She could see out a large bay window onto a large body of water with a sizable city on the far side. The armed soldier stood by the door, his weapon at the ready. Finally, the man came back in. He was followed by the woman. He sat down, but she remained standing behind him. As he sat in one of the high-backed chairs, he began to smile. The woman placed a thick folder in front of him.

He opened the folder and began to read from it.

"Kimberly Anne Possible. This is interesting. I see you're a Leo. That's very nice. I'm a Scorpio, personally."

Kim plopped down in a chair with an 'umph'.

'You're wanted in fourteen countries for crimes including murder, malicious mayhem and terrorism. Not bad." He continued reading from the file.

Kim said nothing.

"I like this one. You got involved with a Greek arms dealer, spent two years as his mistress, just so you could get close enough to kill him. And then you did the same thing to his son immediately following his funeral. That takes balls. I am impressed with you, young lady."

Still she said nothing.

"Or how about the time you let yourself be sold into the harem of a Saudi Prince? You destroyed not only his family, cleaned out his bank account, and set fire to his residence, but then you destroyed all four of his refineries in one afternoon. That was very nicely done. Although I'm not sure if I would have blamed it on the Symbionese Liberation Army. But it is a nice touch of historical irony."

"Is that all you got?" Kim asked, disgusted with the discussion at hand.

"No, it isn't. But to answer your earlier question, I am here to offer you a deal. I can make all your crimes go away."

"And if I say no?"

"If you say no, I put you on a plane for Afghanistan. I'm sure they'd love to know who killed their president. You'd be there in about twelve hours."

Kim thought about that for about half a second. "What's the deal?" She said resolutely.

"According to this file, about twenty years ago you changed the name you work under and on your website from Kim Possible to Vengeance. As in 'The Angel of Vengeance?"

"I got bored with my old name. I wanted something with more pizzazz." Kim said as she began to clean the non-existent dirt from under her fingernails.

"Sure you did. Are you sure it didn't have anything to do with the events of June 8th?"

"Lets leave that date alone, shall we? I don't think you can say anything about that day that I don't already know."

"I'll bet I can." The man said.

"Like what?"

"Like 'I know how to change that day'."

"…" Kim actually had nothing to say in response to his short sentence.

"Kimberly Anne Possible, My name is James MacCarran, and I am offering you a chance to undo the events of that day. I am offering you a chance to save the life of the man you loved and still love. If you succeed, none of the events of the past twenty-five years will have happened. If you succeed you get your life back."

Kim looked at him, unsure what to believe.

"Are you serious?"

"Very." He smiled.

Kim leaned toward him. Her eyes narrowed.

"If this is a lie…" She began.

"What are you going to do, Kill me?" He interrupted, having heard this same threat a thousand times before.

"If this is a lie, you better hope God finds you before I do."

"Good. Now that I know you're serious, we can move on." He paused for a moment. "By the way, I have a message for you."

"From who?"

The young woman extracted a remote from her pocket. She pushed a button and the room lights dimmed. Another button and the dry-erase board on the far side of the room began to play the message.

"Hi Kimmie." It was Shego. "Its me. Just thought you might like to know that I'm ok. I'm really sorry that you're where you are now. These guys really wanted you. They haven't told me why, but they did and they were willing to pay for you. They were willing to pay all of us a whole lot of money. But when I though about it, I figured that the check would be easier to divide evenly if I just kept all the money for myself. Nothing personal, princess. If you're curious, it was pretty easy. I just sold our radio channel to the Yugoslavians, and then I just had to describe their hiding places. Oh, yes. I almost forgot. I also sold the GPS frequency from that ring you wear to the Serbians. It was too easy, and too profitable. I suppose this is goodbye. I mean I had a great time with you all these years, you're a whole lot of fun between the sheets, and I was really attached to you. But every time I look at this check, and I think about all those times you beat the hell out of me over the years…" Shego paused. "Just so you know, this is what you get when you let your guard down. Well, I guess I just have to move on with my life. Have fun Kimmie." Shego blew her a kiss. "I hope whatever they do to you doesn't hurt too much." Shego unfolded the check in front of the camera. There was a very large number written on it. "Buh-bye, sweetie. Me and my money are off to Aruba." The playback ended. Kim could feel her blood boiling. Rage was welling up inside her.

"Looking for payback, Kim?"

Kim wanted to scream and attack and do many things all at the same time.

"Kim. Sit down. Payback lies not in Aruba, but with me. I can get you a meeting with her. And then you will have your revenge. Interested in my offer?"

"You get me to that bitch, and I will do whatever you want."

"Kim. Calm down. If I send you back, your mission will not be to hurt Shego. Your mission is to save Ron. You have to save him. You have to put your life back on track. You have to be there for Ron and your family and for Wade." He paused and switched to a different tone. "Of course, if you 'just happen' to find Shego, what you do is up to you."

Kim reached up for her ring. It wasn't there.

"Looking for your ring, Kim? I have it. Its safe." MacCarran reached into his pocket and pulled out a small clear plastic pouch. Inside was her ring and the chain it hung from. He slid the envelope across the table. Kim picked it up and looked at it.

"I find it interesting that the ring in your hands right now is the only thing you took with you when you left your old life. Any reason?"

"…"

"I think that ring is a symbol. A symbol you can't part with."

"What's it a symbol of, smart guy." Kim was becoming irritated with the whole line of questioning.

"I think that ring represents the last thing you ever really loved. The only thing you ever lost, and the only person you couldn't save. That's why you took it with you, and that's why you changed your name." He sat back in his chair. "Care to debate the point?"

Kim had no answer. The protective barrier that had held back all of the pain was about to erupt. MacCarran could see it in her eyes. All she needed was one more push. MacCarran selected his target carefully. When he turned the page in the file, he saw the perfect implement for her total and complete destruction. MacCarran paused while he chose his next words carefully.

"I didn't think so. I can give you back your humanity. I can bring Ron back to life. I can even bring your mother back. She was in Bahrain when those terrorists detonated their nuclear weapon, wasn't she. She and two million other people died because you were pouting in a hotel room outside London. I can let you save her. You can be there. You can stop it from happening. Interested?" He slid an old family photo across the table. There in all its glory was the Possible family. Plus one Stoppable. It must have been taken shortly before they left Middleton for college. Ron had his arm around Kim's waist. Kim's hand was on Ron's shoulder. There was the ring; black and silver; titanium with silver inlay. Just like the ring she now held in her hands.

And then the dam burst. Kimberly Anne Possible, former teen superhero, former fiancée, former terrorist and now former assassin was reduced to tears. Every feeling that she had suppressed cascaded onto her. In a moment she went from being a cold, stone-faced killer to being curled up on the floor in the fetal position in the midst of an emotional collapse.

"Sergeant, you can leave. Miss Possible will be staying with us." MacCarran nodded to the soldier. The soldier quietly left the room.

After a few minutes, MacCarran stood up from his chair and took a glass of ice water from the table. He walked to Kim and crouched next to her. He waited until she was able to take the plastic glass from his hands. When she could finally breathe again, she sat up and began to drink the cool water.

"Feeling better?" He asked as he gently put his hand on her shoulder.

Kim nodded. Twenty-five years of suppressed feelings and unresolved issues were still taking their toll on her sanity and composure.

"Do you want to do this?" He asked softly.

Kim nodded as best she could.

"When do you want to get going?" MacCarran spoke softly and directly to her.

"When can I go?" She gasped.

"Whenever you're ready."

"Now. I want to go now."

"There are things you need to know."

"I don't care. I have to do this." Steely determination was returning to Kim's voice. But in the back of her mind, a tiny, child-like voice added _Because I want my mommy back. Because I want Ron back._

"It's a one way trip. We can get you there but we can't get you back. If you blow it, there isn't a second chance."

"I don't care."

"It's going to hurt. It's going to hurt a lot. More than I can describe."

"I don't care."

"Last chance, Kim. You can walk away from this. Never look back. You can go about your business. You can go find Shego in Aruba and do whatever terrible things you want to do to her."

"For the last time. I…Don't…Care. If you can do this, then do it."

"That's what I wanted to hear. That's what I was expecting." MacCarran stood up. He extended his hand to Kim. She looked up at him. He was smiling. It wasn't the egotistical, self assured smile he had used before. It wasn't the all-knowing smile either. This time, it was a genuine smile. A genuinely happy and helpful smile like a parent would use when his children needed help. Kim took his hand and stood up. MacCarran led her out the door and into an elevator. The elevator began its descent. As the elevator descended deep into the earth, Kim found herself actually feeling apprehension about what she had just promised to do. She stood in silent introspection. When she could no longer contain herself, she spoke.

"You're sure this works?" Kim asked in a small voice.

"Yep."

"How do you know?"

He turned to face her, taking on a serious look.

"Because I've done it. Twice."

Kim was taken aback. "That can't be. It's a one way trip."

"Yes it is. I've taken two trips back into my own body, just like you will. I've carried two messages to myself from myself. It isn't fun."

"Why are you doing this?"

"I need you to do me a favor when you get there."

"What kind of favor? Does someone need to die?"

"No, nothing like that. After you save Ron, I need you to be yourself. That's all you have to do. Listen to the little voices in your head. Do what comes naturally. Don't second guess yourself."

"I don't get it."

"Don't worry, you will."

The elevator doors opened.

The doors opened onto a mesh catwalk. Machinery was everywhere. The Asian woman was waiting for them. _How the hell did she get here ahead of us?_ MacCarran took a headset from her and escorted Kim down the steps onto the main floor and through the maze of electronics. Deep in the belly of the machines was a bare metal table surrounded by huge exposed coils and lights and a myriad of other things.

"Here we are." MacCarran gestured at the table with a sweeping motion.

"Not quite what I was expecting. Not very romantic, is it?"

"It may not be H. G. Wells, but it works. Take a seat."

Kim walked over to the table. It was cold. Pipes of liquid helium were coiled nearby chilling the air into a dense fog.

"Ok, kiddo. Strip."

"Excuse me?"

"Those scrubs. Lose them. We don't want to confuse the machine with clothing when it scans you."

Kim pulled the thin scrubs and the boxers off. The cold metal table was even colder than it looked. As soon as she was settled, a large boom of even more equipment was lowered over her, invoking a definite feeling of claustrophobia.

"Kim." MacCarran crouched down so he could see her as she was sandwiched between the walls of machinery. She turned her head to see him.

"Remember. June 8th. Save Ron. Beyond that, you're on your own. And be yourself." He smiled and walked away. There was silence and darkness. Kim was cold, naked and alone in the belly of a giant machine that was apparently doing nothing. A loud buzzer sounded. _Now what?_ She wondered. There followed a series of beeps. And then, for Kim's personal amusement, the universe exploded into a giant ball of light, fire and pain.

The pain was everywhere and nowhere at the same time. There was no escape from the pain. It was as if she had been frozen, incinerated, detonated and had her skull crushed by a large hammer; all at the same time It was if someone was applying a belt sander to her brain and exposed nerve endings. There was an instant, somewhere in the pain where it started to diminish, and Kim was relieved that it would soon end. But just as suddenly, the pain returned. Kim was sure that it only went on for a few seconds, but it seemed to go on forever. It even seemed to extend beyond her body. This time when the pain stopped, it stopped completely. Kim blinked. She was still in the dark. She blinked again. This time she was rewarded by light and sound. Unfortunately, it was the sound of a car horn. As fast as she could process the images, she grabbed ahold of the steering wheel in front of her and swerved left, followed by a quick swerve right to avoid the oncoming truck. She swerved right again and found a quiet part of the curb that was not actively trying to kill her. Kim sat and listened to her heart beating. She listened to her breathing and tried to slow them both down. It took a few minutes, but it worked.

When her hands stopped shaking, and the sudden urge to throw up had subsided, Kim looked around, trying to get some idea of her situation. She figured that it had to be somewhen near June 8th. Now the question was: how close was she, and where was she. The when was answered when she looked at the date on her wrist-watch. It was May 31st, and it was a little after 11:30 AM. As for where she was, that took a little more work. She got out of the car and looked around. To her right, was a large parking lot flanked by multistory brick buildings. On her left, across the street was another parking lot. Both were nearly full. But the one on the right was more interesting. Not only did it have cars, but also it had people. Young people moving boxes and crates and baskets into their cars. As she scanned the parking lots, she saw that they were all young, in their twenties. There were many, many people. She kept looking until she found a sign on the side of the building: South Snarr Hall. It took a moment, but then she recalled where she was. Those buildings are dormitories. And if those are the dormitories, then I'm back in college. She looked around again. Over the tops of the trees, she could see the top of the library in the distance. Kim smiled happily. _That twisted son-of-a-bitch did it. I'm really here. He almost killed me getting here, but he did it._

After moving the car into the parking lot, Kim took stock of her situation. She was nineteen years old again. On her finger was an engagement ring that Ron had given her. She had her whole life ahead of her. Maybe. In eight days and a few hours, she had to save the life of the only man she loved. She looked around the inside of the car. There were the typical things one would find in a college student's car. Kim formulated a quick plan to see if things were as they seemed. Taking a notepad, she made a quick note to Ron, and sealed it in a makeshift envelope torn from the cardstock cover of a notepad. In a few minutes she had reached the Livingston library, and given the envelope to one of the library aides. She then made her way up to the fifth floor of the library and waited. Ron was in a final exam right now. In an hour, he'd be done. From there, he would head back to the apartment. But if Ron were real, if this whole thing were real and could be changed… She had to know. If history was set in stone, this whole thing was a wasted effort. Kim had devised a test to see whether history was permanent or flexible.

The fifth floor was dark. Boxes littered the floor. It was cool from the air conditioning. There were discarded shelving units and file cabinets grouped in piles. Kim sat on a box of books and relaxed for a moment. For the first time, she looked down at her clothes. She was wearing a short, white blouse, tied in the front showing both cleavage and belly. She noted that her younger self hadn't worn a bra this morning. Her skirt was short. _I haven't worn skirts like this in years. _She ran her fingers thorough her long, auburn hair._ I miss my hair being this long. I miss a lot of things. Wait. If I'm in my younger body, then I won't have…_ She hurriedly stood up and unfastened her skirt. It dropped to the floor, leaving her in a pair of simple, dark-colored cotton panties. She ran her fingers up and down her midsection, looking hard for something that she wasn't finding. It isn't there. The cold steel knife that claimed part of her womanhood hadn't happened. She couldn't find any of the deep scars that once decorated her body. Kim was experiencing a level of happiness that she hadn't felt in years. She was almost giddy with excitement. _So far so good. _

Kim waited in the semi-darkness. She paced. She sat and waited. She paced again. Time crawled by. Eventually, she saw Ron sitting on the edge of the fountain far, far below her. Nervously, she picked up her cell phone. Ron's phone number sprang into her head. _Looks like the younger me is actually going to help me out._ She hit 'send'.

The phone rang.

"Hey Kim, what's up?" It was Ron on the other end. It was really Ron. Either that, or a very carefully constructed illusion. She thought fast. For an instant, her mind went completely blank as to what to say. She opened her mouth and absolutely nothing came out.

"…" _Oh god, I've lost it. What do I say? What was I doing, calling him?_ Then, quietly, her younger self took over control of her mouth.

"Nothing, just calling to see where you were. Just wanted to remind you that we need to get going eventually if we want to make it home."

"Huh? Home?" Ron sounded stunned, maybe a little confused.

_We drive home, back to Middleton every break. Ron and I will spend the next few days driving halfway across the country. A perfect time to talk and remember and just be together again._ The less violent version of her memories was trying to exert itself.

"Ron? You okay? I thought you were coming straight home after your final. Where are you?" Kim was concerned. Maybe there was something else going on that she missed.

"I'm still on campus. I'm over…" She could hear the continuous splashing of water in the background. Her younger mind mentioned that there was only one place on campus where you would hear that noise.

"Over by the fountain. I can hear it behind you." Slowly, the hormone-addled younger version of Kim made mention of a new incarnation of the older Kim's plan to 'inspect' or 'interrogate' Ron. "Hmmmm." She thought for a moment.

"Hmmmm what?" Ron said, questioning, maybe catching wind of the tone in her voice.

Time to put the plan into action.

"Ron, stand up a sec." She told him. Far below her window perch, she could see the gorgeous, young blonde man stand up. _Good boy_, she thought.

"Ok. I'm standing."

"Turn around. Tell me what you see."

Ron turned, and looked around and started listing the things he saw as he turned.

"I see the library. I see the fountain. I see… trees. I see…"

"Ron. Be quiet a second. I left you a present at the librarian's desk on the main floor. I'll see you when you get home. Love you."

"Love you, too." Ron said.

The call ended. Now it was time to see if Ron could follow instructions. Kim waited in the darkness. In a few minutes, the elevator chimed. She could hear the doors open. Within a few seconds, she could smell the blend of aftershave, soap, and his own pheromones wafting into the room. She could hear that he was a little nervous. He was calling her name. She could see him walking in the small pools of light cast by the windows.

"Hello Ron." Kim said seductively from her spot in the darkness. Young and old Kim were waiting for him. She had thought this would be easy. She thought wrong. As she began to move in the darkness, she began to remember exactly why she loved him.

"Hey KP, what's up? Where are you?" Ron said as he tried to pick her form out of the darkness.

"I'm here. I've missed you so much." She confessed to him. As she moved through the darkness, her slow and seductive walk became a run. Kim crashed into Ron, engulfing him in her arms. She tried her best to hold back the tears, but they erupted anyway. _I love you, Ron. I'll never let you go. Never, ever, ever, ever_. She just kept repeating the word 'ever' in her mind. But by the time she finished, she was whispering the word 'ever' into Ron's ear, over and over again.

When the embrace finally broke, Kim looked at him, trying to remember every detail of his body. She looked at him. He was as perfect as ever. Even better, he was still alive. _All I have to do is reclaim him. I can make him mine all over again. And he will be mine. All those people for the past twenty-five years were nothing but a poor substitute for Ron. They were just something to pass the time; just something to take away the pain. But I don't need them anymore. I have the original. There won't be any more pain._

Kim took Ron back into her arms. She was amazed at how well their bodies fit together. It was a comfortable fit that showed how perfectly they matched each other. In the back of Kim's mid, it also betrayed how long it had been since she had felt him against her body. In that moment, the only thing in Kim's mind was the need to reclaim the man in her life. Kim ran her hands up Ron's chest and took hold of the collar of his shirt and pulled. Ron's shirt disintegrated in her hands. Ron's willpower followed shortly thereafter, and the two of them tumbled to the floor. Kimberly Possible began to reclaim the man she loved.

As they lay on the floor, resting after their exertions, Kim snuggled up to Ron's collarbone. She quietly whispered across the decades. "He's safe now. Thank you."

**Author's notes**:

Sorry its taken a while to get this one up. I've been having a tough time writing the last chapter. I just don't think its good enough to post yet. I'm currently on version 3 of the last chapter. Apparently I suck at endings. Give me another week, and I'll have it and the epilog up so I can put this story to bed.

I should comment on one section of the story and why I wrote it the way I did. In the hotel, when Kim, Shego and their team are debating that to do and during the mission itself, I didn't go into much detail regarding the rest of the team. That was deliberate. I wanted the team to remain fairly anonymous. That way when they all died, it wouldn't be as traumatic. In the first version of those scenes, I fleshed out the whole team and went into detail about their deaths. One of my betas said I was being too graphic and gory. So I edited it out. I like to think of it this way: If Kirk, Spock, McCoy and ensign Smith are beaming down to a planet, guess who isn't coming back.

For what its worth, the campus description and buildings are all real. Ten bonus points to anyone who can name the university. Also, the Symbionese Liberation Army (SLA) was the group that kidnapped Patti Hearst back in the 1970s and brainwashed her into committing bank robberies.

I hope you enjoyed this little look into Kim's alternate life without Ron to keep her on the side of good. Those of you who were emailing me and asking, and I quote one person's email: WHAT THE F ARE YOU DOING!. Or, my favorite review "Ok, now you're just playing with our heads". Or even the one that told me it was impossible to have two different futures. To that individual, I suggest you relax, take a look at modern quantum theory regarding time and time travel (incidentally, that's where the whole premise of this story came from). What am I doing? I'm writing a story. And yes, I'm playing with your heads. And I'm having a good time doing it. I like happy endings. Romance is nice, a little angst and pain make it more realistic.

Anybody want to hazard a guess as to MacCarran's role in all this? I've been dropping very subtle hints since ch1. Like the man said, "You may want to kill me before this is over."

Until the next chapter, Enjoy ourselves and be good. And if you can't be good, be good at it.

By the way…

Thanks to all you who beta read my story. I'll probably need you all again for the final chapter. I want to make sure I'm not writing crap. (The epilog is mine, and I'm keeping it a surprise.)

Horatius.


	9. Chapter 9

An explanation

Since I'm getting so many comments and questions, I figured I should at least try and explain what happened.

Firstly, let me apologize for the long delay in the last chapter. It appears that when I uploaded the last chapter, it never got posted to the story, leaving everyone hanging for about a year. Sorry about that. Its all this new-fangled technology.

As for the story... I'll answer the questions as I received them.

The epilog is indeed a wedding. IT takes place about twenty years after the end of the story. The people getting married are Kim and Ron's daughter and James MacCarran.

No, Kim and Ron aren't viewing the wedding as ghosts. The Possibles in attendance are Kim's parents and the Stoppables are Kim and Ron as well as Ron's parents.

The two trips into the past MacCarran made were into his own past. He was making sure that the future he got to live in was the one where he married Kim and Ron's daughter and got to live happily ever after. If Kim or Ron died, he wouldn't get that future. That's what the whole 'be yourself' thing alluded to.

I tried to make Kim's fall to the Dark Side pretty obvious and dramatic. Without Ron to keep her stable and on the right track, All Kim's power and ability would have led her down a more and more self-destructive path, especially if she blamed herself for her lover's death. Call it Survivor Guilt.

I threw in the Dr. Dementor bit because he was the only villain I could think of that was on par with Drakken as far as a destructive force, and I needed to start blowing stuff up.

I doubt I'll ever do a continuation of this story arc, but since neither of them lost their memories of their future, its always possible that I might. Time travel makes for such an easy writing tool.

Hopefully, this'll clear up some of the questions I've been getting. Incidentally, I'm currently writing a new story in the Harry Potter Section. My arrogance got the best of me and I used the phrase 'How tough could it be' one time too many. Seeing as how I've never read any of the HP books, it's a little tough, but my betas seem to like it. So, for your approval and criticism, I submit to you the story entitled "This is Hogwaaaaarts" over in the Harry Potter section. Check it out and tell me what you think.

Take care everyone. And until next time, you should always remember.

Horatius.


End file.
